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University  of  North  Carolina 

EndoweiT  by  the  Dialectic  and  Pfuiui- 
tliropic  Societies. 

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This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO  WEEK 
ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine  of  FIV 
CENTS  a  day  thereafter.  It  was  taken  out  ( 
the  day  indicated  below: 


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THE 


LANTERN  OF  DIOGENES 


N.  B.  HERRING,  M.  D. 


RALEIGH.   N.   C. 

E.   M.   UZZELL    a    CO..  PRINTERS    AND    BINDERS 

1910 


Copyright,  1910 

BT 

N.  B.  HERRING 


TO 

THAT  VILIFIED  AND   LITTLE   UNDERSTOOD  CLASS. 

THE   SKEPTICS; 

AND  TO  THE  HONEST  AND  TRUTH-LOVING 

TEACHERS  OF  RELIGION, 

"PURE  AND   UNDEFILED   BEFORE  GOD." 

THIS    VOLUME 

IS   RESPECTFULLY   INSCRIBED 

BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


"From  the  moment  when  a  man  desires  to  find  the  truth  on  one 
side  rather  than  another,  it  is  all  over  \Yith  him  as  a  philosopher." — 
Harriet  Mabtineau. 

"The  business  of  the  scholar  is  the  pursuit  of  truth.  He  is  to 
find  out  and  formulate  the  facts  regardless  of  creeds,  teachings  of 
traditions,  decrees  of  councils,  or  votes  of  assemblies.  If  he  does 
less  than  this,  he  is  a  coward  and  a  deserter.  If  he  does  more,  he 
is  a  demagogue  and  a  charlatan." — President  Hyde  of  Bowdoin 
College. 

"As  we  are  obliged  to  obey  the  divine  law,  though  our  will  murmur 
against  it,  so  we  are  obliged  to  believe  the  word  of  God,  though 
our  reason  be  shocked  at  it ;  therefore,  the  more  absurd  and  incredi- 
ble any  divine  mystery  is,  the  greater  honor  we  do  to  God  in  believ- 
ing it." — Francis  Bacon. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK   I— PART  I. 

CHAPTER  I.  PAGE. 

The  Old  Man  in  the  Car 3 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Schoolmasteb 5 

chapter  iii. 
"The   Ghost" 7 

chapter  iv. 
The  Philosopher 10 

chapter  v. 
Faith    13 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Dialectics   I5 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Evidence    17 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  "Assertion"  Analyzed 19 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Mind  and  Brain 22 

CHAPTER  X. 

Electricity   2G 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Design 30 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Hybrids  and  Physiological  Pain 36 

PART  II. 

"He  is  Uncommonly  Powerful  in  His  Own  Line,  But  it  is 
Not  the  Line  of  a  First-rate  Man" 42 

BOOK   II. 
Preface    61 

chapter  i. 
The    Journey    Home 63 


vi  Contents. 


CHAPTER  II.  PAGE. 

The  Track  in  the  Road TO 

CHAPTER  III. 

The   Wandering    Jew 76 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Crusades 86 

CHAPTER  V. 

The   Crazy   Shoemaker 90 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Freedom   and  Necessity 96 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Freedom  and  Necessity  (Continued) 104 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The    SotTL 112 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Phenomena    121 

CHAPTER  X. 

Responsibility    128 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Secondary    Causes 135 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Boyhood    115 

chapter  xiii. 
Cause  and  Effect 150 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

From  Boyhood  to  Manhood 155 

chapter  xv. 
Manhood    161 

chapter  xvi. 
Matter  and  Spirit 169 

chapter  xvii. 
The  Divinity  of  Christ 1"6 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Judas  Iscariot 1~9 


Contents.  vii 


CHAPTER  XIX.  PAGE. 

Job    182 

CHAPTER  XX. 
The  Lesson 188 

chapter  xxi. 
An  Interlude 193 

CHAPTER  XXn. 

The  Teachings  of  Jesus 199 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  Answer 209 

chapter  xxiv. 
Going  to  Church 214 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
Starting  in  Life 219 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Marriage    228 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Divorce  237 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
Raising  a  Family 243 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
Managing   a  Family 252 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Old  Age 258 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Sunday  Morning 264 


Appendix    279 

Addendum     287 


INTRODUCTION 


I  have  no  apology  to  make  for  writing  this  book.  It  is  the 
result  of  many  years'  study,  and  the  offspring  of  the  best 
thought  of  my  life.  If  its  readers  do  not  like  it,  they  are 
welcome  to  say  what  they  please  about  it. 

Criticism  is  invited  and  abuse  will  not  ruffle  the  temper  of 
its  author. 

Several  scholars  have  read  it,  but  no  one  has  criticised  it, 
and  only  one  has  abused  it.  Bishop  Strange  did  himself  poor 
service  in  his  misapprehension  of  its  intent  and  meaning. 
His  letter  and  my  answer  follow. 

Elder  P.  D.  Gold  read  it  and  said:  "I  have  enjoyed  read- 
ing your  book,  which  is  peculiar.  I  have  been  puzzled  at 
times  to  know  where  you  are  and  what  you  believe." 

Unlike  Bishop  Strange,  he  could  not  place  me  on  one  side 
or  the  other.  He  comprehended  the  intent  of  the  book — that 
of  presenting  both  sides  of  every  question  discussed,  and  leav- 
ing the  verdict  to  the  reader. 

It  is  easy  to  see  from  the  Bishop's  letter  where  the  ''peep 
behind  the  curtain"  stuck  him  deepest.  Poverty  of  resource 
has  ever  placed  the  church  in  a  false  light,  and  never  has  there 
been  a  time  when  it  ran  so  severe  a  gantlet.  The  reader  will 
do  well  to  make  no  decision  until  he  has  read  every  line  and 
digested  the  whole.  Let  him  do  as  the  Bishop  started  to  do, 
when  he  balked.  Let  him  stick  a  pin  at  the  first  rut— the  first 
jolt  he  finds  in  the  road,  and  not  wait  until  he  gets  to  his 
journey's  end  and  then  say,  the  road  is  had. 

If  the  good  Bishop  will  spend  another  three  days,  or,  better, 
three  weeks,  on  that  stumpy  road  where  he  found  so  many 
obstructions,  and  point  out  that  particular  stump  where  "There 
is  no  right  and  no  wrong  in  the  world,"  I  will  dynamite  that 


X  Introduction. 

stump  and  fill  up  the  hole.  And  if  he  will  point  out  any 
passage  in  Ingersoll's  writings  where  he  inveighed  against  the 
"words  and  character"  of  Jesus,  I  will  confess  that  I  am  a 
careless  reader. 

Book  I  shows  that  I  am  not  an  admirer  of  Ingersoll,  but  I 
believe  in  "giving  the  devil  his  due";  for — 

"Bad  as  he  is.  the  devil  may  be  abused, 
Falsely  charged  and  causelessly  accused ; 
When  men,  unwilling  to  be  blamed  alone. 
Shift  off  the  crimes  on  him  which  are  their  own." 

A  prominent  lawyer  of  Eichmond,  Ky.,  writes :  "To  me, 
your  book  has  been  a  source  of  inspiration  along  certain  lines. 
I  feel  more  than  repaid  by  a  hasty  and,  to  me,  unsatisfactory 
reading.  I  recall  the  fact  that  your  style  has  the  happy  amal- 
gam of  Miltonic  sonorous  English  and  the  incisiveness  of  a 
chancery  brief. 

"I  notice  you  ask  for  my  criticism.  Am  I  an  Edinburgh 
Revieiv,  and  are  you  to  be  the  George  Gordon  Byron?  ISTo, 
no,  'excuse  me' — do  not  excruciate  me  upon  this  crux  of  the 
Krino." 

Relative  to  Book  I  or  Part  I  of  the  Lantern.,  he  writes : 
"It  seems  to  me  that  this  part  of  the  book  might,  with  pro- 
priety, to  say  the  least,  be  expunged.  I  fail  to  realize  in 
ideas  its  logical  connection  with  either  the  'Jew'  or  the  subse- 
quent career  of  the  school-teacher." 

Singular  as  it  is,  the  more  a  man  knows,  the  more  difficult 
ii  becomes  to  present  a  subject  in  language  that  can  be  easily 
comprehended ;  yet  it  seems  strange  that  careful  and  scholarly 
readers  can  make  such  egregious  mistakes  in  the  interpretation 
of  what  seems  to  be  a  very  simple  matter.  One  places  me  on 
the  side  of  the  agnostic,  because  the  arguments  on  that  side 
appeal  more  strongly  to  him,  while  the  other  objects  to  Book 
I  or  Part  I  of  the  Lantern,  because  he  cannot  see  the  connection 
between  that  and  the  second  part  of  the  book. 


Introduction.  xi 

The  Schoolmaster,  a  deist,  contends  with  tAvo  antagonists — 
Ingersoll,  an  atheist,  and  the  "Jew,"  who  is  a  Christian. 
Atheism  is  combated  in  his  argument  with  Ingersoll ;  Christi- 
anity in  that  with  the  "Wanderer." 

Book  I  shows  Mr.  Eliot's  belief  in  God;  Book  II,  his  unbe- 
lief in  the  Christian  religion;  and  the  whole  book  shows  that 
he  was  a  Unitarian. 

If  some  deductions  from  scriptural  texts  jar  upon  the  timid, 
pious  mind,  or  certain  conclusions  drawn  from  the  admissions 
of  the  adversaries  of  Orthodoxy  vex  the  wiseacre,  let  the  reader 
remember  that  simple  fairness  demands  that  he  reach  his 
verdict  only  after  careful  consideration  of  all  the  arguments 
based  upon  the  evidence.  If  he  endorse  the  witness,  he  must 
not  repudiate  the  testimony,  and  as  Q.  K.  Philander  Doesticks 
implies  in  his  "apology"  for  writing  Pluri-hus-tali,  "Si  stulti 
'pactum  fdcias,  stulti  stipendium  tibi  accipienduni  sit." 

Take  the  case  and  say  how  it  is. 

N^.  B.  Herring. 


BISHOP  STRANGE'S  LETTER. 


Bishop's  House, 
Wilmington,  N.  C,  September  5,  1906. 

My  dear  Dr.  Herring  : — I  send  you  your  book  by  expi'ess  to-clay. 
I  have  been  reading  it  steadily  and  carefully  for  the  past  three  days. 
I  started  with  jiencil  and  paper,  taking  notes,  to  commend,  to  criticise, 
and  even  to  answer  some  of  the  positions  of  the  Schoolmaster.  Then, 
I  concluded  to  read  the  book  straight  through  and  get  its  impression 
as  a  whole.  I  have  done  that,  my  dear  Doctor ;  and  the  impression 
is  so  sad  and  terrible  that  I  will  attempt  no  particular  criticism  nor 
reply. 

In  the  early  part  of  your  book  you  say  that  conscience  is  uo  guide 
at  all  in  treading  the  labyrinth  of  life;  and,  later  on,  you  even  urge 
that  conscience  is  the  cause  of  sin.  You  discredit  Faith,  telling  men 
that  it  is  just  as  likely  to  lead  them  to  superstition  and  misery  as 
to  truth  and  happiness.  The  main  part  of  the  book  is  a  strong  argu- 
ment for  the  doctrine  of  absolute  Necessity  in  all  creation  and  a  denial 
of  human  responsibility.  There  is  no  right  and  no  wrong  in  the 
world ;  the  murderer  and  ravisher  are  not  to  be  blamed  or  punished ; 
and  the  man  is  not  to  be  praised  who  gives  his  life  to  relieve  human 
suffering  and  to  make  this  earth  a  sweeter,  brighter,  better  place. 
They  had  to  do  what  they  did;  and  so  there  is  no  blame  nor  praise. 

You  make  Holy  Scripture  a  magic  book,  penned  by  the  hand  of 
omniscient  God,  with  every  "t"  crossed  and  every  "i"  dotted  by  Him ; 
and,  then,  you  sneer  at  tlie  position  in  mind  and  morals  which  such 
an  interpretation  of  the  Inspiration  of  Scripture  places  us.  You 
make  the  great  drama  of  Job  a  jest,  and  you  excuse  the  treachery  of 
Judas. 

Your  chapter  on  the  teachings  of  Jesus  is  the  bitterest  and  most 
unfair  arraignment  of  the  words  and  character  of  the  noblest  man  in 
human  history  that  I  have  read  in  literature,  with  the  possible  excep- 
tion of  Ingersoll.  How  can  you  define  Jesus  as  a  man  who  "deserts 
his  best  friends  and  forsakes  those  who  are  in  sympathy  with  him  to 
grovel  with  the  canaille";  whose  teaching  is  "the  inculcation  of  selfish- 
ness," and  whose  advice  is  "to  disregard  the  duties  of  this  present 
world"? 


xiv  Bishop  Strangers  Letter. 

You  finish  your  book  with  a  horrible  sermon,  as  if  it  were  the  best 
sermon  that  Christianitj^  can  give,  which  unreservedly  declares  that 
all  the  heathen  are  tortured  forever  in  hell ;  which  declares  that  the 
distinguishing  difference  between  Christianity  and  Materialism  is,  in 
regard  to  the  end  of  man,  that  the  one  consigns  most  men  to  the 
everlasting  tortures  of  hell,  and  the  other  consigns  all  men  to  worse 
tortures  in  a  deeper  hell.  Ah,  yes,  Doctor,  as  I  read  your  book,  I  see 
the  ONE,  Almighty,  self-existent,  all-wise  Being  creating  this  world 
with  a  purpose,  forcing  all  men  through  life  necessarily  to  this  pur- 
pose; and  that  the  end  and  meaning  of  this  purpose  is  HELL — hell, 
flaming,  torturing  hell  for  all  men,  but — but — an  infinitesimal  few 
who,  despite  their  reason  and  their  moral  sense,  simply  declare  that 
they  believe  in  Jesus  and  feel  that  they  are  converted  by  the  Cross. 

It  is  not  a  suflScient  answer,  Doctor,  to  say  that  you  have  stated 
only  one  side  and  that  you  have  tried  to  lind  answers  for  the  other 
side.  I  do  not  think,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that  any  man  can  answer 
his  own  real  arguments.  Here  it  is  so  evident  which  is  your  side ;  it 
is  argued  out  so  much  more  clearly  and  fully  that  men  follow  you  in 
the  argument,  unless  they,  as  few  do,  have  the  intellect  and  learning 
to  argue  for  themselves.  There  is  much  fine,  original  matter  in  the 
book ;  many  true,  beautiful,  and  wise  things ;  but  you  can  give  them 
to  the  world  in  another  setting.  Pardon  me,  if  I  have  been  too 
frank.  Doctor ;  but  we  have  been  so  in  all  our  talk ;  and  I  agreed  to 
be  that  when  I  took  the  book. 

With  good  wishes  for  you  and  Mrs.  Herring, 

Sincerely  yours, 

Robert  Strange. 


REPLY  TO  BISHOP  STRANGE. 


My  deae  Bishop  : — Tbe  book  came  safely  by  express,  your  letter 
following  next  day. 

I  am  disappointed  in  your  letter.  You  have  not  done  yourself 
justice. 

Queasiness  is  no  substitute  for  argument,  and  hypercriticism  never 
yet  bettered  an  evil. 

I  asked  for  bread,  and  you  have  given  me  what  I  already  had — 
a  stone.  Or,  rather,  I  asked  for  a  fish,  and  you  gave  me  a  serpent. 
The  stone  I  easily  picked  up  as  I  journeyed  through  the  Sacred 
Volume ;  but  the  serpent — oh,  the  serpent !  When  will  he  cease  to 
crawl  on  his  belly  and  eat  dust? 

You  assume  more  than  the  arguments  justify.  If  the  evidence  is 
stronger  on  the  materialistic  side  than  it  is  on  the  other,  why  should 
you  assume  that  I  am  more  on  the  one  than  the  other? 

I  did  my  best  on  both  sides,  and  nothing  but  poverty  of  evidence 
kept  me  from  answering  the  Schoolmaster  satisfactorily  to  you.  I 
called  on  the  brightest  scholars  and  greatest  theologians  of  this  age; 
and  I  am  proud  to  say  that  I  have  been  treated  with  the  utmost 
courtesy,  and  given  all  the  aid  at  their  command.  I  stopped  writing 
the  book  a  whole  year  because  I  could  not  answer  some  of  the 
Schoolmaster's  questions,  nor  find  a  man  equal  to  the  task.  In  way- 
off  Boston  I,  at  last,  found  a  doughty  champion  of  the  Cross  who, 
with  a  boldness  made  of  knowledge,  and  a  finesse  to  adorn  Machiavel, 
came  to  my  rescue  and  bridged  the  gap. 

Borden  P.  Bowne's  letter  is  incorporated  in  the  book,  word  for 
w^ord  and  letter  for  letter.  It  is  a  masterpiece  of  strategy,  steganog- 
raphy,  and  scholarship — a  genuine  sesquipedaUa  verha.  He  calls  it 
Transcendental  Empiricism.  Whatever  that  means,  it  is  an  answer, 
and  enabled  me  to  go  on  with  the  book. 

To  Bishop  Candler  I  sent  the  chapters  "Job"  and  "Judas,"  asking 
for  a  reply.  He  did  his  best,  and  was  exceedingly  courteous  in 
his  manner  and  style.  It  is  in  the  chapter  headed,  "The  Lesson," 
and  breathes  the  spirit  of  true  Christian  humility.  If  "weak,"  as 
you  intimated  when  we  read  the  chapters  together,  it  is  in  strong 
ii 


xvi  Replg  to  Bishop  Strange. 

contrast  with  .vours  where  you  comphiiu  that  I  '"make  the  great 
drama  of  Job  a  jest,  and  excuse  the  treachery  of  Judas." 

If  the  argument  against  conscience  as  a  guide  be  fallacious,  you 
ought  to  have  shown  the  fallacy.  Your  criticism  of  my  book  is  the 
same  that  Bruno,  Servetus,  and  Savauarola  underwent.  When  the 
Church  had  civic  power  the  inquisition  was  the  evidence,  and  the 
fagot  and  torture-chamber  the  argument;  it  is  the  "bitterest  and 
most  unfair  arraignment." 

If  the  bible  is  not  the  word  of  God  with  every  "t"  crossed  and 
every  "i"  dotted  by  Him,  it  is  only  a  human  document,  and  should 
be  treated  as  other  human  documents.  In  a  rec-ent  defense  of  the 
bible  and  the  Christian  religion  the  writer  says :  "No  man  is  fit  to 
sijeak  about  religion  who  reviles  the  word  of  God.  //  he  Imeic  it  to 
be  false,  he  who  reviles  a  book  that  the  best  people  in  the  world 
revere  is  a  bad  man.  with  the  Instincts  of  a  blackguard." 

"Thou  Shalt  not  suffer  a  witch  to  live."  is  Scripture.  It  is  neither 
"magic"  nor  legerdemain,  but  a  command  of  Almighty  God — the 
father  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  just  as  much  His  word  as  "Thou  shalt 
do  no  murder."  Yet  it  has  been  abrogated  by  human  legislation — 
yea,  been  reviled  and  repudiated  by  the  Christian  Church. 

Science  and  philosophy  are  both  failures  in  accounting  for  the  uni- 
verse. Human  reason  balks  at  the  unknowable.  Revelation  as  por- 
trayed in  the  Old,  and  elucidated  in  the  New  Testament,  explains 
everything.  A  Sovereign*  "God  determines  upon' His  own  acts,  fore- 
seeing what  the  results  will  be  in  the  free  acts  of  His  creatures,  and 
so  He  determines  those  results." 

*"From  eternity  God  foresaw  all  the  events  of  the  universe  as  fixed 
and  certain." 

Orthodox  Christianity  as  taught  by  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
and  many  schismatic  sects  since  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  is  sum- 
marized in  the  "Lantern  of  Diogenes''  and  this  summary  gives  you  a 
feature  of  the  "scheme  of  Salvation,"  stripped  of  its  draperies,  its 
gildings,  and  its  canonicals.  It  is  the  same  jjortrait  painted  by 
Tertullian  and  later  on  by  Calvin.  They  were  artists  drawing  from 
nature. 

Horrible,  my  dear  Bishop,  as  this  picture  appears  to  you,  it 
accounts  for  the  universe  and  everything  in  it.     It  gcx^s  Ix^yond  the 


♦Strong's  Theologj', 


Repli^  to  Bishop  Strange.  xvii 

limitations  of  science,  and  leads  where  philosophy  has  lost  its  path. 
It  tells  you  why  idiots  are  born  to  intellijient  parents.  It  accounts 
for  the  pains  of  partiu-itiou;  it  tells  why  people  come  into  the  world 
blind,  deaf,  and  dumb;  why  monstrosities  exist,  and  why  people  are 
sent  to  hell. 

Orthodox  Christianity — that  is,  bible  or  true  Christianity — declares 
that  God,  for  the  salvation  of  a  few — and  a  very  few  at  that — of 
riffraff  Jews,  had  His  oicn  son  murdered;  that  He  loved  Jacob  and 
hated  Esau  before  they  were  born;  that  He  is  Sovereign,  that  He 
overlooks  the  sparrows,  that  His  providence  extends  even  over  sin; 
and  that,  "He  blinds  the  eyes  and  hardens  the  hearts  of  sinful  men; 
and  sends  them  strong  delusions,  that  they  should  believe  a  lie  and 
be  damned." 

You  will  doubtless  say  that  this  is  not  true ;  that  it  is  the  "bitterest 
and  most  unfair  arraignment" ;  but,  my  dear  Bishop,  it  is  bible  doc- 
trine, and  it  is  endorsetl  by  Jesus  Christ  himself.  Turn  to  the  fourth 
chapter  of  Mark  and  read  it,  and  note  especially  the  11th  and  12th 
verses.  Is  there  anything  in  the  Old  Testament  more  horrible  than 
that  sermon,  coming  from  the  loving  lips  of  Jesus? 

"Wicked  men  are  called  the  rod,  the  staff,  the  ax,  the  saw.  in  his 
hand;  and  are  therefore  moved  by  him,  as  these  instruments  are  by 
the  hand  of  him  who  uses  them." 

Is  not  this  sermon  of  Jesus,  quoted  by  Mark,  a  vindication  of  the 
Old  Testament  Scriptures?  Did  he  want  that  multitude  saved?  Did 
he  treat  the  only  true  friend  (John  the  Baptist)  he  ever  had  as  the 
Golden  Rule  commands?  Was  Teter,  his  right-hand  man,  on  whom 
he  founded  his  church,  a  high-toned  gentleman?  How  about  the 
Prodigal  Son  and  his  brother?  Whose  conduct  did  he  approve,  the 
industrious  Martha's  or  the  lazy  Mary's?  Why  should  he  commend 
the  unjust  steward  who  had  robbed  his  employer?  Tell  me  if  it  is 
just  to  pay  a  laborer,  for  one  hour's  work,  as  much  as  another  for  a 
whole  day.  Why  should  he  go  to  a  fig  tree,  out  of  season  for  figs, 
and  then  curse  it  for  being  bare? 

Calvinism  has  stood  the  test  from  the  day  it  was  expounded  by 
Jonathan  Edwards,  and  no  man  has  yet  answered  it. 

Now,  wherein  is  my  chapter  on  The  Teachings  of  Jesus  "bitter  and 
unfair"?  I  have  only  used  the  evidence  and  drawn  logical  conclu- 
sions  from   the   same.     On    the   other   hand,    I    have    endeavored   to 


xviii  Repli;  to  Bishop  Strange. 

palliate  these  horrible  statements  and  excuse  Omnipotence  from  the 
implication  of  evil.  That  I  failed  is  only  because  the  evidence  is  not 
there  on  which  to  build  the  argument. 

You  have  not  read  the  book  as  the  Schoolmaster  read  the  bible.  If 
the  whole  of  anything  is  faulty,  its  parts,  or  at  least  some  of  its 
parts,  are  faulty.  Dissection  is  the  only  means  of  getting  at  the 
structure  of  anything.  If  no  part  of  a  structure  can  be  condemned, 
the  whole  certainly  ought  not  to  be  condemned.  Instead  of  analyzing 
the  book  as  you  purposed  and  as  I  desired,  you  throw  up  your  hands 
in  holy  horror  and  accuse  me  of  being  on  one  side. 

Finally,  as  to  that  "horrible"  sermon  which  is  the  closing  chapter 
of  the  book.  And  before  I  say  a  word  in  defense  of  that  sermon, 
allow  me  to  quote  two  verses  from  what  you  must  agree  is  the  finest 
sermon  ever  preached  on  this  earth  : 

"Go  in  by  the  small  gate.  Broad  and  spacious  is  the  road  that 
leads  to  destruction,  and  those  that  go  in  by  it  are  many;  for  small 
is  the  gate  and  narrow  the  way  that  leads  to  Life,  and  those  that 
find  it  are  few." 

In  that  "horrible"  sermon  we  see  science  and  philosophy,  by 
their  own  confession,  traveling  at  a  rapid  rate  down  the  "broad 
and  spacious  road."     Their  inevitable  goal  is  "destruction." 

"Hell — hell,  flaming,  torturing  hell  for  all  men,  but — but — an 
infinitesimal  few."  Now,  who  said  that — the  Schoolmaster  or  Jesus 
Christ? 

The  philosophy  of  materialism  says  all;  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  lets  off  the  few  that  "go  through  the  small  gate."  No 
stronger  argument  was  ever,  nor  ever  can  be,  presented  to  the 
human  mind  for  the  acceptance  of  Christ. 

That  horrid  nightmare,  "Hell,"  seems  to  affect  you  as  the  Lemu- 
rine  Phantom  affected  Brutus  at  the  battle  of  Philippi. 

Cfapsey  could  not  stand  the  immaculate  conception,  and  you  are 
horrified  at  the  idea  of  hell.  Thousands  of  men  who  call  themselves 
Christians  accept  Darwin's  theory  of  evolution  which  denies  the  Fall, 
and  therefore  does  away  with  any  lifting-up  process.  It  is  the  same 
old  wrangle  that  has  existed  from  the  earliest  days  of  the  Christian 
era.  If  this  sermon  is  so  horrilile  because  it  preaches  hell,  and  tells 
you  how  to  keep  out  of  it.  pray  tell  iu(>  what  you  think  of  (he  sermon 
Jesus  i)reached  to  the  multitude  on  the  seashore.     If  you  will  give 


Repli^  to  Bishop  Strange.  xix 

me  one  good  reasou  foi*  bis  preaching  that  sermon,  I  will  agree  to 
burn  mine  up  and  never  open  my  moutb  again  on  tbe  subject  of 
religion.  * 

My  dear  Bishop,  you  ought  to  read  tbe  book  again,  and  read  it 
as  the  Schoolmaster  read  the  bible.  Had  you  read  the  preface  care- 
fully you  would  have  seen  that  both  the  "Sermon"  and  the  "Teach- 
ings of  Jesus"  are  legitimate.  And  if  j'ou  will  read  the  bible  account 
of  Job  and  Judas,  you  will  see  that  I  have  neither  made  a  "jest"  of 
the  one  nor  "excused  the  treachery"  of  the  other. 

If  an  Omnipotent  God  orders  anything  done,  the  human  instru- 
ments selected  to  carry  out  His  orders  are  not  to  be  charged  with  the 
acts  committed.  If  Christ  was  a  mortal,  if  he  was  the  sou  of  Joseph 
and  Mary,  born  in  the  good  old-fashion  way,  he  was  crucified  by 
the  Romans.  If  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  he  was  crucified  by  the 
direction  of  his  Father.  If  you  deny  this,  I  will  prove  it  by  his  own 
testimony : 

"As  the  Father  knoweth  me,  even  so  know  I  the  Father ;  and  I  lay 
down  my  life  for  the  sheep.  No  man  taketh  it  from  me,  but  I  lay  it 
down  myself.  I  have  power  to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  powder  to 
take  it  again.     This  commandment  have  I  received  from  the  Father." 

According  to  Matthew%  Christ  predicted  his  death,  entombment, 
and  resurrection : 

"For  as  Jonah  was  three  days  and  three  nights  in  the  whale's 
belly,  so  shall  the  Son  of  Man  be  three  nights  in  the  heart  of  the 
earth." 

Christ  told  his  disciples  that  he  must  go  into  Jerusalem  and  suffer 
many  things  and  be  crucified.  He  told  Peter,  James,  and  John  not 
to  publish  the  details  of  his  transfiguration  "until  the  Son  of  Man 
be  risen  from  the  dead."  He  said:  "The  Son  of  Man  shall  be  be- 
trayed into  the  hands  of  men,  and  they  shall  kill  him."  He  said  that 
he  "came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister,  and  to  give  his 
life,  a  ransom  for  many."  He  fell  on  his  face  and  prayed:  "O  my 
Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me:  Nevertheless, 
not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt." 

When  one  of  his  disciples  would  have  resisted  the  capture,  Jesus 
said  that  he  could,  by  praying  to  his  Father,  obtain  for  his  defense 
"more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels,"  and  added :  "But  how,  then, 
shall  the  Scriptures  be  fulfilled  that  it  must  be?" 


XX  Repli^  to  Bishop  Strange. 

Moses  aucl  Elias  talked  to  Jesus  about  his  "decease  which  he 
should  accomplish  at  Jerusalem."  He  said  to  his  disciples :  "Be- 
hold, we  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  aud  all  things  that  are  written  by  the 
prophets  concerning  the  Son  of  Man  shall  be  accomplished." 

According  to  Luke,  Christ  predicted  that  he  should  be  delivered  to 
the  Gentiles,  mocked,  spit  on,  scourged,  and  crucifietl.  When  Pontius 
Pilate  told  Jesus  that  he  had  power  to  crucify  or  release  him,  Jesus 
answered  that  the  Roman  had  no  power  except  it  was  given  from 
above.  Everything  that  was  done  was  done  in  order  "that  the 
Scriptures  might  be  fulfilled."  Take  this  proposition  from  the  New 
Testament,  aud  the  scheme  of  salvation  is  gone. 

If  what  happened  could  have  been  prevented  by  the  Romans  or 
by  the  Jews,  then  the  New  Testament  is  worthless.  It  is  too  late  in 
this  day  of  intelligent  thought  to  continue  the  arguments  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  Could  religion  have  made  progress  along  with  science 
and  literature,  our  sacred  books  would  have  kept  pace  with  other 
changes;  and  instead  of  a  bible  suited  to  barbarians,  we  would  have 
one  now  in  accord  with  civilized  life.  Thomas  Jefferson,  instead  of 
being  preached  into  hell  for  selecting  the  good  and  ignoring  the  bad, 
would  be  counted  a  benefactor  of  the  human  race.  Ingersoll,  for 
condemning  the  bloodthirstiness  of  Jehovah,  and  preaching  the  moral 
precepts  of  Jesus,  would  never  have  been  stigmatized  as  an  infidel. 
Stephen  Girard,  whose  philanthropic  monument  to  the  orphan  chil- 
dren of  Philadelphia  is  doing  more  real  good  than  all  the  churches  of 
that  city,  would  be  canonized  instead  of  doomed  to  the  Christian's 
deepest  hell. 

Yes,  my  dear  Bishop,  you  will  have  to  get  rid  of  your  witness.  The 
testimony  is -too  sti'ong,  the  evidence  too  clear  for  the  Crapseys,  the 
Coxes,  and  other  strong  men  in  the  Church.  Set  aside  your  witness 
or  accept  his  testimony,  as  the  Catholics  do.  And  if  God  has  told 
you  to  give  diseased  meat  to  strangers  or  sell  it  to  aliens,  do  that. 
All  the  horrible  commands  laid  down  in  Leviticus  and  Deuteronomy 
are  as  binding  to-day,  and  upon  us,  as  they  were  then  upon  the  Jews, 
for  he  says :  "This  shall  be  a  statute  forever  unto  them  throughout 
their  generations." 

A  quotation  from  a  "Schoolmaster"  of  the  olden  time,  with  an 
answer  by  a  great  ecclesiastic,  will  fitly  close  my  apology  for  the 
"bitterest  and  most  unfair  arraignment": 


Repli^  to  Bishop  Strange.  xxi 

ONAN. 

"The  race  of  Ouan  exhibits  great  siusularities.  The  patriarch 
Judah,  his  father,  hiy  with  his  claughter-iu-hnv.  Tamar  the  Phoeui- 
ciau,  in  the  highroad ;  Jacob,  the  father  of  Judah,  was  at  the  same 
time  married  to  two  sisters,  the  daughters  of  an  idohiter ;  and  de- 
luded both  his  father  and  father-in-law.  Lot,  the  granduncle  of 
Jacob,  lay  with  his  two  daughters.  Saleum.  one  of  the  descendants 
of  Jacob  and  Judah,  espoused  Rahab  the  t'anaanite,  a  prostitute. 
Boaz,  son  of  Saleum  and  Rahab,  received  into  his  bed  Ruth  the 
Midianite ;  and  was  great-grandfather  of  David.  David  took  away 
Bathsheba  from  the  warrior  Uriah,  her  husband,  and  caused  him  to 
be  slain,  that  he  might  be  unrestrained  in  his  amour.  Lastly,  in 
the  two  genealogies  of  Christ,  which  differ  in  so  many  point.s,  but 
agree  in  this,  we  discover  that  he  descended  from  this  tissue  of 
fornication,  adultery,  and  incest. 

■•Nothing  is  more  proper  to  confound  human  prudence ;  to  humble 
our  limited  minds,  and  to  convince  us  that  the  ways  of  Providence 
are  not  like  our  ways.  The  reverend  father  Dom  Calmet  makes  this 
reflection,  in  alluding  to  the  incest  of  Judah  with  Tamar,  and  to  the 
sin  of  Onan,  spoken  of  in  the  38th  chapter  of  Genesis :  'Scripture,' 
he  observes,  'gives  us  the  details  of  a  history  which  on  the  first 
perusal  strikes  our  minds  as  not  of  a  nature  for  edification ;  but  the 
hidden  sense  which  is  shut  up  in  it  is  as  elevated  as  that  of  the 
mere  letter  appears  low  to  carnal  eyes.  It  is  not  without  good 
reasons  that  the  Holy  Spirit  has  allowed  the  histories  of  Tamar, 
of  Rahab,  of  Ruth,  and  of  Bathsheba  to  form  a  part  of  the  genealogy 
of  Jesus  Christ." 

This  ancient  "Schoolmaster"  then  comments  as  follows  upon  the 
answer  of  Dom  Calmet : 

'•It  might  have  been  well  if  Dom  Calmet  had  explained  these 
sound  reasons,  by  which  we  might  have  cleared  up  the  doubts  and 
appeased  the  scruples  of  all  honest  and  timorous  souls  who  are 
anxious  to  comprehend  how  the  Supreme  Being,  the  Creator  of 
worlds,  could  be  born  in  a  Jewish  village,  of  a  race  of  plunderers 
and  prostitutes.  This  mystery,  which  is  not  less  inconceivable  than 
other  mysteries,  was  assuredly  worthy  the  explanation  of  so  able  a 

commentator." 

Sincerely,  your  trieud. 

N.  B.  Herking. 


BOOK    I. 


THE 

LANTERN  OF  DIOGENES. 


PART  I. 
CHAPTER  I. 

THE    OLD    MAN    IN    THE    CAR. 

On  a  warm  afternoon  in  the  montli  of  June,  1889,  an  old 
man  was  traveling  at  a  high  rate  of  speed,  in  a  gorgeous  palace 
car,  on  one  of  the  great  trunk  railways  of  the  United  States. 
He  was  a  good  distance  from  home,  and  was  returning  from  a 
tour  of  inspection  of  the  schools  of  the  ISTorth  and  West.  He  was 
the  only  passenger  in  the  car,  and,  his  journey  being  a  long 
and  tedious  one,  he  had  provided  against  the  ennui  and  monot- 
ony of  travel  by  supplying  himself  with  some  of  the  current 
literature  of  the  day.  He  was  sociable  in  his  nature  and  habits, 
and  preferred  the  society  of  his  fellow-man  to  any  other  enjoy- 
ment, but  when  alone  and  comfortable  he  never  failed  to  have 
at  hand  some  book  or  periodical  from  which  he  received  in- 
struction, or  whiled  away  the  time  between  his  more  active 
engagements.  His  hair  was  short  cropped  and  white  with  age. 
His  face  was  wrinkled  and  his  back  bowed,  but  his  eye  was 
bright  and  his  broad  forehead  indicated  thought.  His  dress 
was  plain  but  neat,  and  his  spectacles  pushed  up  on  his  forehead 
showed  that  he  did  not  need  them  in  reading.  He  had  been 
near-sighted  in  youth,  and  wore  glasses  mainly  to  see  at  a  dis- 
tance. Age  had  flattened  his  eyeballs,  and  the  focus  of  light 
had  come  in  the  easy  range  of  ordinary  men  in  their  prime. 
He  wore  glasses  now  more  from  habit  than  from  any  benefit 
he  derived  from  them.  He  had  been  a  student  from  early 
youth,  and  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  had  been  the  one  absorb- 
ing passion  of  his  life.  He  had  had  the  benefit  of  the  finest 
educational  facilities  of  his  day,  and  had  been  graduated  with 
the  highest  honors  from  a  famous  university  of  the  South.     He 


4  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

began  at  an  early  day  to  examine  critically  his  own  knowledge, 
and,  finding  mucli  of  it  faulty,  lie  inquired  into  the  methods  of 
teaching,  and  to  his  sui-prise  and  chagrin,  found  them  crude, 
inefficient,  and  ill  adapted  to  the  requirements  of  the  age. 

His  Alma  Mater,  which  at  one  time  he  worshiped  as  a 
tutelary  goddess,  became  in  later  years  a  fetich  of  priggism 
where  the  smatterer  bowed  and  the  pedant  strove  for  the  honors 
of  a  Machiavelian  sophistry.  In  every  department  of  human 
learning  which  he  investigated  he  found  the  same  superficiality, 
the  same  gloss  and  tinsel.  The  science  and  art  of  agriculture 
were  in  the  most  primitive  condition,  and  the  laws  which  gov- 
erned the  growth  of  plants  understood  by  few.  The  physi- 
cian's greatest  ambition  was  to  "smell  like  a  doctor,"  and  his 
armamentarium  consisted  in  murdered  technicalities  of  which 
he  knew  little  more  than  his  deluded  patrons.  The  lawyer 
would  speak  knowingly  of  the  Lex  talionis,  while  the  preacher 
quoted  Scripture  and  twisted  it  to  suit  his  own  church  and 
creed.  Some  of  the  best  mechanics  had  spent  much  of  their 
time  in  working  at  perpetual  motion,  and  the  alchemist's  dream 
still  haunted  the  chemist,  while  the  philosopher's  stone  engrossed 
the  attention  of  nearly  every  class  above  the  common  laborer. 
But,  of  all  men,  the  teacher  was  found  most  sadly  wanting  in 
useful  information;  and  so  deeply  grounded  was  his  prejudice, 
and  so  bent  upon  following  the  ruts  of  his  predecessors,  that  the 
caustic  lines  of  Boileau  became  a  fitting  animadversion  upon 
the  farcical  purism  of  the  average  school-master : 

"Brim  full  of  learning,  see  the  pedant  stride ! 
Bristling  with  horrid  Greek,   and  puffed  with  pride, 
A  thousand  authors  he  in  vain  has  read. 
And  with  their  maxims  stuffed  his  empty  head ; 
And  thinks  that  without  Aristotle's  rule 
Reason  is  blind,  and  common  sense  a  fool." 


THE  SCHOOLMASTER. 


The  Schoolmaster.  5 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE    SCHOOLMASTER. 

To  BE  a  sclioolmaster  in  the  South  prior  to  the  war,  and 
more  especially  about  the  year  1840,  was  looked  upon  as  an 
admission  on  the  part  of  the  teacher  that  he  was  good  for  little 
else.  A  few  noted  exceptions  might  be  found  here  and  there, 
where  by  long  and  persistent  use  of  the  rod  a  sort  of  savage 
respect  had  attached  itself  to  particular  individuals ;  but,  as  a 
rule,  when  the  Southern  gentleman  wanted  a  teacher,  he  sent 
to  Massachusetts  or  Connecticut,  as  he  did  for  his  ax-helves, 
believing  that  no  good  could  come  out  of  this  modern  ISTazareth 
save  a  cotton  bale,  a  nigger,  or  a  mule.  This  phantasm  of  the 
Southern  mind  had  built  a  temple  of  wisdom  in  New  England, 
and,  as  true  knowledge  could  be  obtained  from  no  other  source, 
the  Yankee  schoolmaster  came  periodically  to  keep  the  free 
and  ''entered"  schools  of  the  South.  Ichabod  Crane,  Irving's 
hero  of  "Sleepy  Hollow,"  is  a  type  of  the  l^^ew  England  gaber- 
lunzies  who  migrated  annually  to  !N^orth  Carolina  to  instruct 
the  young  "Tarheel"  in  the  mysteries  of  foreign  slang. 

"I  kotch  it,"  I  have  heard  one  say  as  he  played  ball  with  the 
children  when  school  was  out.  They  brought  with  them  an 
abundance  of  "waters  Lethean,"  of  which  the  tow-headed  urchins 
drank  copious  draughts ;  and  hence  "your  Epimenides,  your 
somnolent  Peter  Klaus,  since  named  Rip  Van  Winkle." 

Notwithstanding  the  unsavory  atmosphere  in  which  the  native 
teacher  was  compelled  to  live,  this  old  gentleman  decided  in 
early  manhood  to  devote  his  life-work  to  the  instruction  of 
others.  With  an  honesty  unknown  in  the  other  professions, 
he  pursued  the  line  of  truth  as  far  as  he  could  trace  it,  with- 
out thanks  and  with  little  reward.  He  passed  through  the 
usual  stages  of  hopeful  optimism,  despairing  pessimism,  indif- 
ferent submission,  and  finally  in  his  old  age  entered  the  Elysian 
fields  of  true  philosophy.  At  middle  age  he  had  learned  a 
lesson  which  few  ever  learn,  that  is,  the  limit  of  his  o\vn  capac- 
ity. After  that  he  never  attempted  impossibilities.  He  saw 
that  the  possible  was  so  much  neglected  that  life  was  too  short 
to  waste  time  after  the  impossible.     He  had  learned  that  the 


6  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

IminarL  mind  could  never  attain  to  the  limits  of  all  knowledge, 
and  for  years  he  had  only  endeavored  to  instill  into  the  minds 
of  his  pupils  some  of  the  fundamental  principles.  He  made 
it  a  rule  of  his  profession  to  correct  error  rather  than  to  teach 
truth,  believing  that  negative  evidence — that  is,  a  statement  of 
what  a  thing  is  not — is  more  valuable  than  dogmatic  assertion. 
The  modem  method  of  "pushing"  at  school,  of  going  through 
and  over  books,  of  cranmiing,  learning  rules  by  heart,  and  recit- 
ing by  rote,  he  repudiated  as  a  waste  of  time  and  an  injury 
to  the  understanding. 

As  a  man,  he  was  somewhat  after  the  order  of  Rousseau's 
portraiture  of  his  Spanish  friend,  De  Altuna : 

"The  idea  of  vengeance  could  no  more  enter  bis  head  than  the 
desire  of  it  could  proceed  from  his  heart.  His  mind  was  too  great 
to  be  vindictive,  and  I  have  frequently  beard  him  say,  with  the 
greatest  coolness,  that  no  mortal  could  offend  him.  He  was  the  only 
man  I  ever  knew  whose  principles  were  not  intolerant.  It  was  not 
of  the  least  consequence  to  him  whether  his  friend  was  a  Jew,  a 
Protestant,  a  Turk,  a  bigot,  or  an  atheist,  provided  be  was  an  honest 
man." 

Heteroclite,  bizarre,  sui  generis,  or  some  such  appellative, 
appeared  to  befit  him  both  as  a  teacher  and  a  citizen,  and 
accordingly  he  was  known  in  his  community  as  an  oddity. 
Even  as  a  young  man,  and  at  college,  he  was  considered  queer, 
and  having  no  double  name,  he  adopted  the  middle  initial  G., 
conferred  upon  him  by  his  college  mates  on  account  of  his  fan- 
cied resemblance  to  a  ghost.  He  ever  afterward  signed  his  name 
John  G.  Eliot,  and  sometimes  simply  "Ghost  Eliot."  His 
pupils  nicknamed  him  "The  Old  Stive,"  but  whether  he  ever 
heard  of  that  is  questionable,  as  he  commanded  the  respect  of 
all  classes.  He  was  known  within  the  radius  of  a  large  circle, 
as-  "The  Ghost,"  but  to  his  face  he  was  always  respectfully 
spoken  to  as  Mr.  Eliot.  "When  did  you  see  the  Ghost?"  was 
often  the  question  of  one  friend  to  another. 


''The  Ghostr  7 

CHAPTER  III. 

"the  ghost." 

Mr.  Eliot  tauglit  bv  precept  and  example,  and  while  he  had 
for  years  endeavored  to  instill  into  the  minds  of  his  pupils  the 
fundamental  principles  of  all  knowledge,  he  had  watched  the 
teachings  of  others,  not  only  in  the  schoolroom,  but  from  the 
pulpit,  the  rostrum,  and  the  secular  press.  Speculative  philos- 
ophy had  for  many  years  engaged  his  leisure  moments,  and  he 
had  studied  with  a  close  scrutiny  the  various  theories  of  philos- 
opher, minister,  and  statesman.  He  had  found  from  expe- 
rience and  obsei-vation  that  truth  lay  buried  in  the  inner  kernel 
of  all  things,  and  could  only  be  foimd  by  dissection  and  analy- 
sis; that  the  pericarps  or  husks  of  philosophy  alone  were  seen 
by  the  multitude,  and  that  to  get  the  pure  gold  the  mine  must 
be  sapped  to  the  bottom.  He  analyzed  the  human  mind,  and 
divided  it  into  compartments  embracing  truth  and  error.  He 
compared  the  psychical  states  of  men  and  brutes,  and  found 
them  so  closely  allied  as  to  bear  the  semblance  of  kinship,  yet 
so  far  apart  that  no  theory  of  descent  has  been  able  to  bridge 
the  gap.  The  mai'velous  intellect  of  Darwin,  the  keen  logic 
of  Spencer,  the  profound  thought  of  Helmholtz,  and  the  pains- 
taking studies  of  Haeekel,  have  never  yet  discovered  the  "miss- 
ing link"  in  the  chain  of  cause  and  effect  which  attempts  to 
bind  man  to  a  common  origin  with  the  brute.  Evolution  in  its 
broad  sense  he  admitted,  as  every  true  philosopher  is  compelled 
to  admit,  but  the  theory  of  man's  descent  he  found  to  be  based 
upon  pure  assumption,  as  all  theories  concerning  God,  the  uni- 
verse, and  the  devil  are  based  upon  postulation.  In  his  philos- 
ophy he  assumed  nothing;  but,  taking  facts  as  they  are  pre- 
sented to  the  minds  of  all  thinkers,  he  reasoned  out  a  philosophy 
of  his  own — a  creed,  as  it  were,  in  which  he  could  find  no  fact 
in  the  universe  running  counter  to  his  theories. 

He  made  a  circle  aroimd  every  living  creature,  and  called  it 
the  "circle  of  the  finite."  Beyond  this  circle  lay  the  infinite, 
and  into  this  infinity  he  found  that  man  was  ever  piying,  ever 
tn'ing  to  project  himself. 


8  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

The  lower  animals,  so  far  as  lie  could  see,  completed  their 
whole  existence  here.  Their  distinctive  faculty,  as  well  as  the 
common  faculties  of  man  and  brute,  remained  satisfied  in  this 
circumscribed  area — never  pushing  the  brute  to  a  hope  beyond, 
nor  dragging  him  with  a  fear  of  the  far-oif  and  unsettled 
future.  Man  alone  he  found  delving  into  the  mysteries  of  the 
infinite,  yet  never  satisfied,  because  of  his  intruding  fears  and 
doubts.  He  sought  for  a  reason  why  man  should  trouble  him- 
self for  that  which  appeared  to  be  so  far  beyond  his  grasp,  and 
in  settling  this  point  he  compared  by  analysis  the  human  and 
the  brute  mind,  noting  particularly  the  distinctive  character- 
istics of  each.  The  physical  senses,  appetites,  and  the  passions 
he  found  conunon  to  both,  with  the  balance  in  favor  of  the 
brute  as  regards  development.  Especially  sight,  hearing,  and 
smelling,  he  found  to  be  more  acute  in  the  lower  animals ;  and 
that  the  distinctive  faculty  called  instinct — a  free  gift  to  the 
bnite,  as  reason  is  a  free  gift  to  man — unerring  as  a  guide, 
incapable  of  imj^rovement,  perfect,  and  of  which  man  can  have 
no  conception — a  faculty  which  appears  to  be  a  substitute  for 
reason,  so  closely  allied,  yet  so  far  apart  from  reason  that  it 
sets  a  barrier  between  man  and  beast  which  no  theory  of  mate- 
rialism can  overthrow.  From  this  faculty  of  instinct  he  found 
no  dependencies;  therefore  the  bnite  is  ■without  hope,  without 
charity,  without  faith.  Reverence,  veneration,  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil,  civilization,  progress,  religion,  belong  to  man 
alone.  Instinct  enables  the  honey-bee  to  make  its  comb,  the 
horse  to  find  its  way  home  through  the  mazes  and  intricacies 
of  a  virgin  forest,  the  beaver  to  make  its  dam,  and  the  carrier- 
pigeon  to  direct  its  flight ;  but  instinct  ncA^er  profits  by  expe- 
rience, never  teaches  one  generation  how  to  avoid  the  mistakes 
of  a  preceding  one,  never  educates  youth  nor  protects  age.  Cir- 
cumscribed, limited  to  the  finite,  bound  with  a  Promethean- 
chain  to  this  clifted-stone,  it  has  no  means  of  extending  itself 
beyond  that  tether.  Infinity  is  a  realm  of  which  instinct  has 
no  conception,  and  the  spirit  of  the  beast  must  end  with  the 
physical  forces  which  bring  it  into  existence. 

How  different  with  men!  "Indued  with  intellectual  sense 
and  souls,"  they  stand  out,  reach  out,  grasp  all,  and  long  for 
more. 


''The  Ghost"  9 

The  circle  of  the  finite  cannot  contain  the  mind  of  man. 

Reason,  with  its  dependencies,  enables  him  to  traverse  the 
infinite,  to  project  himself  beyond  the  pale  of  the  known  into 
the  regions  where  truth,  error,  happiness,  and  misery  reign 
supreme;  where  time  and  space  have  no  beginning  and  no  end- 
ing, where  mutation  ceases,  and  where  reform  is  impossible; 
for  it  is  written  : 

"He  that  is  unjust,  let  him  be  unjust  still;  aud  he  that  is  filthy, 
let  him  be  filthy  still ;  aud  he  that  is  righteous,  let  him  be  righteous 
still ;  and  he  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  holy  still." 


10  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

THE    PHILOSOPHER. 

Enthroned  upon  the  highest  pinnacle  of  the  infinite  sits 
Reason,  crowned  with  the  tiara  of  Justice,  clad  in  the  purple 
robes  of  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity,  having  for  its  footstool 
Reverence,  Veneration,  Conscience,  Worship,  Superstition,  and 
Fear. 

Upon  this  couch  Religion  was  bom,  and  at  this  altar  it  bends 
its  knee.  It  is  pure  and  Godlike  as  it  approaches  the  croT\m, 
low  and  groveling  as  it  descends  to  the  foot.  Without  reason, 
the  dependent  faculties  could  not  exist;  without  these  faculties, 
religion  would  be  impossible.  With  reason  alone,  man  would 
be  simply  an  intellectual  machine,  wound  up  by  the  hand  of 
Time,  to  run  its  course  without  pleasure,  without  pain,  with- 
out hope  or  fear;  stoical,  never  in  error,  never  in  doubt,  doing 
no  good,  doing  no  harm. — progressing  forever  in  the  line  of 
truth — simply  to  know,  to  know  until  he  knew  it  all,  and  then 
what?  Ask  the  Pantheist.  To  be  a  man,  then,  and  a  reli- 
gionist requires  a  combination  of  intellect  and  its  dependent 
faculties,  but,  astounding  as  the  statement  may  be,  it  is  never- 
theless true  that  religion  has  ignored  its  fountainhead,  and 
seeks  to  maintain  its  existence  by  feeding  from  these  inferior 
and  dependent  sources.  This  it  is  which  enables  infidelity  to 
flaunt  its  florid  rhetoric  before  the  dazzled  gaze  of  ignorance. 
This  it  is  that  shames  the  honest  seeker  after  tnith,  and  causes 
his  ears  to  tingle,  and  his  cheek  to  bum  at  the  irreverent  propa- 
gandism  he  hears  in  the  pulpit.  This  it  is  which  forces  the 
philosopher  back  upon  his  own  resources,  and  causes  him  to 
ignore  the  teachings  of  priest  and  infidel  alike. 

As  the  prime  object  of  all  teaching  is  to  influence  conduct, 
to  give  lessons  through  any  medium  whereby  the  individual 
may  be  influenced  to  act  to  his  own  detriment  can  never  come 
■within  the  pale  of  true  education,  and  as  such  should  not  be 
encouraged.  To  get  at  the  truth  of  any  matter,  we  have  but 
one  unerring  guide.  The  senses  are  proverbially  delusive, 
human  desires  are  but  a  mockery,  and  that  ever-paraded  moni- 
tor, conscience,  sways  the  human  heart  to  and  fro  upon   the 


The  Philosopher.  11 

billows  of  life  without  rudder  or  ballast,  driving  one  in  this 
direction,  another  in  that,  approving  in  one  what  it  condemns 
in  another,  and  blinding  all  with  the  beautiful  phantasmagoria 
of  self-approval.  Were  it  left  to  the  senses,  the  world  would 
still  be  flat,  and  imagination  would  again  place  it  upon  the 
coiled  serpent. 

"There  is  a  way  which  seemeth  right  unto  a  man ;  hut  the  end 
thereof  are  the  ways  of  death." 

Our  desires  are  still  less  to  be  trusted.  We  live  imder  the 
influence  of  so  many  artificial  stimuli  that  those  instincts  which 
to  the  brute  are  unerring  guides,  become  in  man  ignes  fatui, 
leading  us  in  devious  paths,  and  often  stranding  us  in  the  mud. 
That  divine  gift  which  alone  separates  man  from  the  brute,  and 
through  which  all  the  grand  achievements  of  the  world  have 
been  accomplished ;  that  which  enables  him  to  think  on  abstract 
subjects  and  profit  by  experience;  that  which  is  the  only  image 
of  God  in  man — reason,  and  reason  alone,  is  the  guide  to  truth. 
If  man  is  ever  to  be  judged  by  appearances,  and  have  sentence 
passed  upon  him  through  the  medium  of  sense,  his  case  will 
remain  hopeless;  but  when  enlightened  philosophy  shall  formu- 
late a  creed  in  accordance  with  the  highest  attributes  of  human- 
ity, the  veil  of  charity  will  then  cover  up  the  ugly  places  in 
man's  nature,  and  fit  him  for  the  exercise  of  that  love  which 
is  so  much  spoken  of  and  so  little  realized.  As  well  might  we 
attempt  to  get  at  the  chemical  composition  and  therapeutic 
effect  of  a  sugar-coated  pill  by  looking  at  it,  as  to  essay  an 
analysis  of  the  hidden  springs  in  human  nature  by  looking  at 
man.  His  composition  is  so  intricate,  his  make-up  so  elabo- 
rate, and  his  attributes  so  varied,  that  anatomists,  physiolo- 
gists, and  psychologists,  with  all  their  studies  of  body,  function, 
and  soul,  have  failed  to  satisfy  even  themselves  on  the  points 
of  their  most  painstaking  labor. 

This  unsatisfactory  result  may  be  traced  to  two  essential 
errors:  one,  of  the  manner  in  which  the  investigation  is  made; 
the  other,  in  the  means  used  to  make  it.  The  mathematician 
in  working  out  a  problem  starts  with  the  premises  and  labors 
to  the  end  with  one  instrument.  Hopes,  fears,  preconceived 
opinions,  and  appearances  do  not  enter  into  the  effort.     Reason 


12  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

alone  battles  with  the  difficulty,  and,  if  the  result  comes  out 
unsatisfactorily,  he  does  not  abandon  his  means,  but  with  the 
same  reviews  his  work  and  detects  the  error ;  or,  if  there  is  no 
error,  acquiesces  in  the  result  without  quibbling  for  an  answer 
that  he  thought,  or  expected,  or  had  been  told  would  be  the 
proper  one.  So  in  the  mechanic  arts,  so  in  law  and  medicine; 
then  why  not  in  the  more  refined  and  subtile  philosophy  of 
metaphysics  ?  Why  trust  and  appeal  to  the  intellect  in  all  mat- 
ters pertaining  to  material  benefits,  and  so  unceremoniously 
thrust  it  aside  as  untrustworthy  when  it  comes  to  the  study  of 
ethical  and  psychological  law?  Is  there  nothing  real  in  all 
these  wordy  abstractions  which  harass  and  perplex  without 
satisfying,  or  does  the  fault  lie  in  the  method  of  study  and  the 
ends  to  be  gained?  Have  we  any  criterion  of  truth,  that  we 
should  follow  automatically  as  the  shadow  follows  the  sub- 
stance ?  This  was  claimed  and  enforced  during  the  Dark  Ages, 
and  the  Avorld  lay  dormant.  Tinith  was  claimed  to  have  a  vis- 
ible throne  in  the  Church,  yet  the  history  of  those  times  is  a 
long  history  of  crime  against  the  fear-corded  intelligence  of 
man.  This  criterion  (Truth)  is  now  centered  in  the  thinking 
capacity  of  every  rational  creature,  and  when  a  man  lays  aside 
his  reason  he  denies  God.  The  tnith  can  be  arrived  at  just 
as  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  can  be  arrived  at,  but  you  must  work 
the  problem  out  the  same  as  the  astronomer  works  out  the 
eclipse. 

The  intellectual  world  is  tired  and  sick  of  dogmatic  teaching. 

"Prove  all  things ;  bold  fast  that  which  is  good,"  and  "be  ready 
always  to  give  an  answer  to  every  man  that  asketh  you  a  reason  of 
the  hope  that  is  in  you." 


THE    SUBJECT    ILLUSTRATED. 


Faith.  13 


CHAPTER  Y. 

FAITH. 

There  lives  more  faith   in  honest  doubt, 
Believe  me,  than  in  half  the  creeds. 

— Tennyson. 

For  the  finite  to  grasp  the  infinite  would  be  to  make  a  part 
equal  to  the  whole;  yet  the  finite,  by  the  terms  of  its  own  exist- 
ence, and  with  the  aid  of  the  evidence  at  its  command,  can  in  a 
manner  arrive  at  conclusions  which  are  positive.  Positive  evi- 
dence, or  the  evidence  of  our  senses,  will  compel  every  one  to 
admit  that  time  is  without  limit  either  in  the  past  or  future, 
that  space  is  boundless  in  every  direction.  ISTo  man  has  experi- 
ence when  there  was  no  time,  neither  has  he  come  to  the  limit 
of  space.  Evidence  by  denial,  exclusion,  or  exception,  twist  it 
as  you  may,  can  never  exclude  either  the  one  or  the  other,  nor 
bring  them  within  the  scope  of  the  finite.  Synthetic  reasoning, 
from  whatever  point  you  start,  can  only  carry  you  to  the  circum- 
ference of  the  circle.  At  the  boim.dary  of  the  finite,  reason  must 
stop,  because  evidence  becomes  inoperative  and  testimony  futile. 
Here  another  faculty  assumes  control,  and,  having  its  impulse 
from  positive  data,  can  never  vary  from  the  direction  it  takes. 

Faith  is  the  only  means  by  which  the  finite  can  extend  itself 
into  the  infinite. 

Beyond  the  limits  of  the  finite,  it  is  influenced  no  more  by 
finite  things.  With  its  impulse  from  truth,  its  direction  is  for- 
ever in  the  line  of  truth;  but  with  its  momentum  from  error, 
its  progress  tends  to  error  ad  infinitum.  In  the  philosophy  of 
Materialism  faith  is  a  condemned  faculty.  It  is  regarded  as  the 
offspring  of  ignorance  and  superstition  alone.  Denial  of  facts 
and  assumption  of  truths  are  the  bane  of  all  systems  of  philos- 
ophy. The  contention  is  for  what  we  want  rather  than  for  what 
we  have.  Faith  being  one  of  the  dependencies  of  reason,  and 
being  influenced  and  modified  by  the  other  dependent  faculties, 
becomes  a  guide  or  a  snare,  according  to  the  influence  exerted 
by  one  or  all  of  its  fellow  dependents.  Faith,  the  product  of 
reason,  is  simply  an  extension  of  reason  beyond  the  finite  into 
the  infinite.     Faith,  the  product  of  the  subordinate  faculties,  is 


14  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

only  an  extension  of  those  faculties  into  the  infinite.  Now,  as 
truth  within  the  circle  of  the  finite  is  only  attainable  through 
reason,  to  find  truth  in  the  realm  of  infinity,  we  must  exercise 
that  faith  which  is  based  upon  reason  alone.  Faith,  based 
upon  the  subordinate  faculties,  is  always  liable  to  be  erroneous, 
because  these  faculties  contradict  one  another,  and  because  they 
form  "in  the  brain,  that  wondrous  world  with  one  inhabitant, 
recesses  dim  and  dark,  treacherous  sands  and  dangerous  shores, 
where  seeming  sirens  tempt  and  fade;  streams  that  rise  in  un- 
known lands  from  hidden  springs,  strange  seas  with  ebb  and 
flow  of  tides,  resistless  billows  urged  by  storms  of  flame,  pro- 
found and  awful  depths  hidden  by  mist  of  dreams,  obscure  and 
phantom  realms  where  vague  and  fearful  things  are  half  re- 
vealed, jungles  where  passions'  tigers  crouch,  and  skies  of  cloud 
and  blue  where  fancies  fly  with  painted  wings  that  dazzle  and 
mislead;  and  the  poor  sovereign  of  this  pictured  world  is  led 
by  old  desires  and  ancient  hates,  and  stained  by  crimes  of  many 
vanished  years,  and  pushed  by  hands  that  long  ago  were  dust, 
until  he  feels  like  some  bewildered  slave  that  Mockery  has 
throned  and  crowned."* 


♦Ingersoll's  "Reply  to  Gladstone." 


Dialectics.  15 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DIALECTICS. 

"And  the  poor  sovereign"  (Reason)  "of  this  pictured  world 
is  led  by  old  desires  and  ancient  hates,  and  stained  by  crimes 
of  many  vanished  years,  and  pushed  by  hands  that  long  ago 
were  dust,  until  he  feels  like  some  bewildered  slave  that  Mockery 
has  throned  and  crowned." 

Rhetoric !  Beautiful,  high-sounding,  turgid  rhetoric !  Weap- 
ons of  the  evangelist — of  the  revivalist.  Shall  the  philosopher 
imitate  the  priest?  Shall  Reason  abdicate  her  throne  at  the 
behest  of  a  phrase-monger? 

"The  intellect  is  not  always  supreme.  It  is  surrounded  by 
clouds.  It  sometimes  sits  in  darkness.  It  is  often  misled — 
sometimes,  in  superstitious  fear,  it  abdicates.  It  is  not  always 
a  white  light.  The  passions  and  prejudices  are  prismatic — they 
color  thoughts.  Desires  betray  the  judgment  and  cunningly 
mislead  the  will."* 

Were  these  powers  taken  into  the  council  that  projected  the 
Mont  Cenis  tunnel?  Are  they  invited  on  shipboard  in  a  storm 
at  sea  ?  Did  they  help  Lieutenant  Maury  to  construct  his  navi- 
gation charts?  Did  Columbus  invoke  their  aid  when  he  set  out 
on  his  voyage  of  discovery?  It  is  a  "poor  sovereign,"  indeed, 
that  takes  these  fearful  helpers  into  his  cabinet  of  state.  Tor- 
quemada  and  Bonaparte  chose  them  for  boon  companions  and 
bedfellows.  The  mathematician  utterly  ignores  them,  the 
astronomer  does  not  recognize  them,  and  the  philosopher  should 
say  to  them,  "Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan."  The  passions  are 
the  common  property  of  man  and  brute.  What  makes  the  man 
is  his  power  to  think  on  abstract  subjects.  This  power  to  think 
is  independent  of  the  physical  senses  or  the  passions.  The 
senses  cannot  help  the  mind  to  think.  The  passions,  when  they 
intrude,  always  do  harm.  The  mind  often  becomes  more  acute 
and  active  when  one  or  more  of  the  senses  are  destroyed.  A  cele- 
brated blind  teacher  of  anatomy  in  New  York  is  an  example. 
The  deaf,  dumb,  and  blind  asylums  prove  the  same  thing. 
Bonaparte's  character  and  career  show  Avhat  intellect  will  do, 


♦IngersoU's  "Reply  to  Gladstone. 


16  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

aided  by  all  the  passions.  The  character  of  Lord  Bacon  is 
another  example.  Does  anybody  suppose  that  Euclid  cared 
about  the  "obscure  and  phantom  realms  where  vague  and  fear- 
ful things  are  half  revealed,  jungles  where  passions'  tigers 
crouch,  and  skies  of  cloud  and  blue  where  fancies  fly  with 
painted  wings  that  dazzle  and  mislead"  ?  Was  he  misled  by  this 
unexplored  and  tangled  mass  of  disarray?  Did  fear,  hope, 
despair,  hatred,  or  love  aid  him  in  the  solution  of  his  celebrated 
forty-seventh  problem?  To  what  use  could  the  mathematician 
put  conscience?  What  can  the  surgeon  do  with  prayer?  How 
far  would  any  or  all  of  the  passions  direct  the  engineer,  the 
navigator,  or  the  statesman  ?  Does  not  the  downfall  of  empires 
show  what  irrational  legislation  can  do  for  men?  Faith,  di- 
rected by  reason,  brought  Columbus  to  the  Western  Hemisphere. 
Faith,  directed  by  conscience,  caused  Paul  to  persecute  the  early 
Christians.  Faith,  directed  by  reason,  enabled  Eads  to  channel 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  River.  Faith,  directed  by  worship, 
prayer,  and  superstition,  caused  Paulina  to  lose  her  virtue  in 
the  Temple  of  Isis.*  Faith,  directed  by  reason,  makes  agricul- 
ture possible;  gives  impulse  to  commerce,  navigation,  and  edu- 
cation ;  builds  cities,  wharves,  steamboats,  and  railroads ;  makes 
progress,  civilization,  and  contentment  possible.  Faith,  directed 
by  the  passions,  causes  internecine  wars,  religious  persecutions, 
and  autos-de-fS. 

"The  experience  of  many  ages  proves  that  men  may  be  ready  to 
fight  to  the  death,  and  to  persecute  without  pity,  for  a  religion  whose 
creed  they  do  not  understand,  and  whose  precepts  they  habitually 
disobey."t — Blind  faith. 

Shall  a  man  dofl^  his  reason  the  moment  he  puts  on  the  garb 
of  religion?  Is  it  possible  that  God's  physical  laws  are  based 
upon  reason,  and  his  spiritual  laws  upon  the  subsidiaries  to  rea- 
son? Is  revelation  a  thought  of  God?  If  so,  how  can  revela- 
tion be  above  reason?  Can  the  triangle  contain  more  than  two 
right  angles  in  the  mind  of  God?  Is  reason  the  image  of  God 
in  man  ?    If  so,  God's  reason  and  man's  reason  are  alike. 

Such  were  the  philosophical  conclusions  of  this  gray-headed 
pedagogue  from  North  Carolina,  as  he  sat  in  the  car  reading 
the  North  American  Review. 


*Josephus.         tMacaulay. 


Evidence.  1 7 


CHAPTEK  VII. 

EVIDENCE. 

Mr.  Eliot  was  somewliat  startled  by  a  long,  shrill  screech  of 
the  locomotive  whistle,  and  a  rather  sudden  slowing  up  of  the 
train  as  it  approached  a  station ;  but,  as  his  attention  was 
deeply  engrossed  upon  the  subject  he  was  reading,  he  hardly 
knew  the  train  had  stopped  until  another  passenger  entered  the 
car,  and  caused  him  to  look  up  from  his  book.  The  passenger 
was  a  portly  gentleman,  rather  above  the  middle  age,  with  a 
beaming,  kindly,  rather  full  countenance,  and  a  pleasant  greet- 
ing on  his  lip,  as  he  took  a  seat  next  our  old  friend  and  re- 
marked :  ''I  am  glad  to  find  that  I  am  not  entirely  alone  in  the 
car,  as  I  always  prefer  company  to  solitude,  and  especially 
after  a  hearty  breakfast."  Without  laying  down  his  book,  the 
old  man  adjusted  his  glasses  and  returned  the  gratulations  of 
his  new  acquaintance  with  a  smile  and  a  pleasant  word,  to  let 
him  know  that  his  presence  was  welcome;  and  with  some  emo- 
tion he  directed  the  conversation  at  once  to  his  book  by  saying, 
"I  have  just  read  a  most  astounding  assertion,  and  as  the  author 
is  a  lawyer,  and  supposed  to  be  well  versed  in  matters  of  evi- 
dence, it  appears  all  the  more  strange  as  coming  from  such  a 
source." 

This  at  once  opened  the  way  for  what  is  to  follow  in  these 
pages ;  and  the  new-comer,  glancing  at  the  book,  saw  it  was  the 
North  American  Review,  and  his  eyes  danced  with  a  merry 
twinkle  as  he  looked  at  the  page  and  read,  "A  Reply  to  the  Rev. 
Henry  M.  Eield,  D.D." 

"May  I  ask  what  the  assertion  is  that  appears  to  be  so 
astounding?"  Mr.  Eliot  opened  the  book  and  read  this  sentence : 
"In  the  nature  of  things,  there  can  be  no  evidence  of  the  exist- 
ence of  an  infinite  being."* 

"Will  you  please  to  give  me  your  idea  of  what  may  be  termed 
evidence  ?" 

"Evidence,  to  my  mind,  may  be  reckoned  under  three  forms — 
that  of  positive,  negative,  and  rationalistic." 

"What  do  I  understand  you  to  mean  by  positive  evidence  ?" 


*"A  Reply  to  the  Rev.  Henry  M.  Field,"  page  483. 
2 


18  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"Positive  evidence  is  that  form  of  testimony  which  is  only 
deducible  from  the  physical  senses. 

"To  make  a  positive  assertion  in  regard  to  anything  or  any 
occurrence,  you  must  either  see,  hear,  taste,  smell,  or  touch  the 
object  of  which  your  assertion  is  the  subject.  The  probability 
of  error  in  this  mode  of  coming  to  conclusions  is  so  great  that 
the  testimony  at  all  times  is  made  doubtful.  Our  earliest  life  is 
made  up  of  sense  impressions  only,  and,  to  correct  the  defects 
of  one  another,  all  the  senses  must  be  compared  before  they  can 
give  just  information ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  experience  of  a 
lifetime,  the  eye  will  continue  to  deceive,  subjective  noises  in 
the  ear  will  distract,  and  the  sense  of  smell  is  often  perverted 
by  a  disagreeable  sight  or  an  unpleasant  sound.  Taste  and 
touch,  also,  are  subject  to  similar  perversions,  and  require  the 
most  watchful  care  to  prevent  error,  and  we  never  live  long 
enough  to  get  entirely  rid  of  the  delusion.  The  clinical  ther- 
mometer is  a  tacit  admission  on  the  part  of  every  physician  in 
the  land  that  the  tactile  sense  of  the  most  delicate  fingers  can 
only  approximate  the  truth  as  to  temperature;  the  mirage  of 
the  desert  is  a  plague-spot  to  the  weary  traveler ;  and  the  tricks 
of  the  juggler  become  a  divine  alchemy  to  the  uninformed. 
ISTegative  evidence  is  a  minus  quantity  in  relation  to  the  percep- 
tive powers — a  sort  of  unofficial  affirmation  or  assent  of  the 
mind. 

"Rationalistic  evidence,  as  you  well  know,  is  the  deduction 
of  pure  reason  from  admitted  premises.  Negative  evidence 
may  be  taken  in  a  description  or  definition  by  denial,  exclusion, 
or  exception — a  statement  of  what  a  thing  is  not.  Like  the 
positive,  it  becomes  useful  in  many  of  the  factitious  ordinances 
of  life,  and  may  become  auxiliary  to  pure  reason  in  seeking  an 
unknown  quantity.  But,  in  a  problem  where  you  are  limited 
to  the  synthetical  mode  of  reasoning,  little  evidence  can  be 
admitted  save  the  rationalistic." 


The  "Assertion"  Anali^zed.  19 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

THE    "assertion"    ANALYZED. 

The  two  travelers  had  become  very  good  friends  in  this  time, 
and  the  stout  gentleman,  turning  to  his  companion,  inquired  if 
he  thought  that,  by  any  one  or  all  three  of  the  modes  of  evi- 
dence discussed  in  the  preceding  chapter,  it  could  be  demon- 
strated that  Colonel  Ingersoll's  assertion  in  regard  to  the  exist- 
ence of  an  infinite  being  might  be  false. 

"To  demonstrate  the  absolute  falsity  of  the  assertion,"  replied 
the  schoolmaster,  "and  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  all  thinking 
minds,  might  be  a  task  of  great  difficulty,  but  to  place  the  bal- 
ance of  evidence  against  the  assertion,  I  not  only  think  feasible, 
but  of  easy  performance." 

"And,  pray,  what  evidence  is  there  to  place  against  the  as- 
sertion ?" 

"There  is  a  great  deal  of  negative,  much  positive,  and  some 
rationalistic  evidence,  which,  if  you  will  exercise  a  degree  of 
patience,  I  will  endeavor  to  present  as  briefly  as  possible" ;  and, 
continuing,  the  old  man  said: 

"All  truths  move  in  parallel  lines.  They  never  cross,  never 
clash,  never  nin  counter  to  one  another.  The  axioms  of  Euclid 
stand  in  perfect  harmony  with  every  fact  and  every  true  theoiy 
of  existence.  There  is  not  one  single  cosmic  atom  in  the  uni- 
verse which  interferes  vdtli  the  statement  that  'a  straight  line 
is  the  shortest  distance  between  two  points.'  If  it  can  be  found 
that  one  of  the  least  factors  of  existence  shows  violence  to  any 
theory,  that  theory  in  the  nature  of  things  must  be  false.  A 
theory,  to  be  true,  must  be  based  upon  facts  admitted  and  self- 
evident,  and  the  theory  must  be  the  product  of  synthetic  evolu- 
tion from  those  facts.  For  any  statement  to  be  absolutely  true, 
it  must  be  found  that  no  fact  in  the  whole  universe  impinges 
upon  that  statement.  The  assertion  of  Colonel  Ingersoll,  that 
'there  can  be  no  evidence  of  the  existence  of  an  infinite  being' 
is  dogmatic,  pedantic,  and  not  warranted  by  the  facts  of  ex- 
istence. 

"In  the  discussion  of  any  problem,  all  parties  must  be  agreed 
upon   fimdamental  principles.     Unless   the   starting-points   are 


20  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

the  same,  no  process  of  ratiocination  can  ever  bring  disputants 
together.  All  results  in  mathematics  and  astronomy  are  based 
upon  the  fact  that  a  straight  line  is  the  shortest  distance  be- 
tween two  points.  To  deny  this  fact  would  make  mining,  engi- 
neering, railroading,  navigation,  impossible.  Natural  philos- 
ophy would  build  a  'Flying  Island,'  and  the  sciences  would  seek 
for  a  new  Laputa,  and  a  world  of  chance  would  be  substituted 
for  law  and  order,  if  it  should  be  held  that  a  curved  line  is 
shorter  than  a  straight  one ;  yet  no  one  can  prove  it.  That  two 
and  two  are  equal  to  four  is  not  susceptible  of  demonstration, 
still  no  one  denies  it.  ISTow,  the  fact  from  which  the  balance  of 
evidence  may  be  placed  against  the  'assertion,'  is  the  existence 
of  the  human  mind." 

At  this  point  the  lecturer  interrupted  the  old  gentleman  with 
the  exclamation,  "Hold!  you  are  getting  into  deep  water.  We 
must  have  an  understanding.  What  is  the  mind?  Philosophy 
is  not  settled  on  this  point.  Is  it  a  force  or  a  mode  of  motion  ? 
A  phenomenon  dependent  upon  the  movement  of  molecules,  or 
is  it  the  result  of  isomeric  and  metameric  chemical  changes  in 
the  brain?" 

"The  mind  is  immaterial,"  said  the  old  man.  "The  meta- 
meric and  isomeric  changes  in  chemical  combinations  deal  with 
matter  alone,  and  cannot  be  brought  up  as  examples  to  illustrate 
combinations  of  material  and  immaterial  phenomena.  Any 
theoiy  as  to  the  movement  of  molecules  setting  up  phenomena 
de  novo  is  gratuitous,  and  must  be  assigned  to  the  regions  of 
dogmatism.  We  will  not  put  it  in  a  crucible  and  endeavor  to 
reduce  it  to  its  component  parts,  neither  will  we  call  it  a  force 
or  a  mode  of  motion ;  but  we  insist  that  it  is  an  entity  in  contra- 
distinction to  a  nonentity — something  instead  of  nothing.  If 
you  try  to  think  of  nothing,  you  can  only  do  so  by  trying  to 
associate  in  your  mind  the  absence  of  existence.  But,  if  you 
think  of  the  mental  state  of  one  of  your  intimate  friends,  that 
condition  of  vacuity  or  nonentity  is  not  presented  to  your  mind 
as  is  the  case  when  you  try  to  think  of  nothing.  This  makes 
it  self-evident  that  the  mind  does  exist,  and  that  it  is  some- 
thing." 


The  "Assertion"  Anali^zed.  21 

The  lecturer  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  said:  "If  the 
mind  really  be  an  entity,  something  instead  of  nothing,  it  is 
either  self-existent  or  it  is  the  effect  of  one  or  more  causes." 

"That  is  just  what  we  will  come  to  after  a  while,"  said  the 
old  man ;  "but  we  must  establish  its  relation  to  the  body  before 
we  can  proceed  to  investigate  its  causes." 


22  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

CHAPTEK  IX. 

MIND    AND    BRAIN. 

Continuing  the  conversation,  the  ancient  "Tarheel"  expressed 
the  opinion  that  all  intelligent  persons  were  agreed  that  the 
brain  is  that  particular  portion  of  the  animal  body  with  which 
the  mind  is  immediately  connected. 

"I  agree  with  you  in  this  opinion/'  replied  his  companion; 
"but  in  what  manner  it  is  related  to  the  brain  has  never  yet 
been  determined." 

"Scientific  investigation/'  said  the  teacher,  "is  of  necessity 
pure  materialism,  and  is  compelled  to  stop  at  the  borders  of  the 
spirit-world.  In  this  problem  we  have  matter  and  spirit,  or 
material  and  immaterial  powers,  so  intimately  related  and  asso- 
ciated that  science  is  not  only  unwilling  but  unable  to  venture 
a  solution." 

"Would  it  not  more  properly  come  within  the  province  of  the 
psychologist?" 

"]^o.  Theology  and  psychology  both  have  hammered  at  this 
solution  ever  since  man  be^an  to  think  on  the  subject,  and  with 
a  bitterness  and  rancor  more  suited  to  the  furies." 

"Is  there  then  no  explanation  to  phenomena  which  are  under 
the  daily  observation  of  all  men?" 

"An  explanation  that  would  be  satisfactory  to  all  minds  is, 
perhaps,  an  impossible  thing,  but  the  balance  of  evidence  may 
be  placed  here,  as  in  other  intricate  cases,  by  reasoning  from 
such  facts  as  are  known." 

"I  can't  understand,"  replied  the  stout  gentleman,  "how  it  is 
possible  for  much  evidence  to  be  adduced  from  such  a  paucity 
of  facts." 

"It  is  tnie,  the  facts  are  not  many,  but,  by  a  system  of  exclu- 
sion, evidence  by  denial  will  aid  reason  very  much  in  getting  a 
start." 

"Would  you  exclude  all  the  present  theories  on  the  subject?" 

"I  would  first  analyze  those  theories  and  see  if  they  are 
founded  on  facts." 


Mind  and  Brain.  23 

"The  thcologic  idea  seems  to  be,  that  the  mind  exists  inde- 
pendently of  the  brain,  and  only  uses  the  brain  as  an  implement 
or  tool." 

"That  is  about  their  position,"  obsen^ed  the  old  man,  "and 
some  pseudo-materialists  maintain  the  same  views,  and  among 
the  most  noted  was  the  late  Dr.  John  "W.  Draper. 

"He  attempts  to  argue  from  the  construction  of  the  brain  and 
nervous  mechanism,  the  necessity  for  an  independent  vital  prin- 
ciple or  soul,  and  says:  'Thus  it  may  be  proved  that  those 
actions  which  we  tei*m  intellectual  do  not  spring  from  mere 
matter  alone,  nor  are  they  functions  of  mere  material  combi- 
nations ;  for,  though  it  is  indisputably  true  that  the  mind  seems 
to  grow  with  the  bodily  structure,  and  declines  with  it,  exhibit- 
ing the  full  perfection  of  its  powers  at  the  period  of  bodily 
maturity,  it  may  be  demonstrated  that  all  this  arises  from  the 
increase,  perfection,  and  diminution  of  the  instrument  through 
which  it  is  working.  An  accomplished  artisan  cannot  display 
his  powers  through  an  imperfect  tool,  nor,  if  the  tool  should 
become  broken  or  become  useless  through  impairment,  is  it  any 
proof  that  the  artisan  has  ceased  to  exist;  and  so,  though  we 
admit  that  there  is  a  correspondence  between  the  development 
of  the  mind  and  the  growth  of  the  body,  we  deny  that  it  follows 
from  that  either  that  the  mind  did  not  pre-exist  or  that  the 
death  of  the  body  implies  its  annihilation.'  " 

The  lecturer  himself  could  see  that  there  was  some  "lost 
motion"  in  this  theory,  and  observed :  "This  reasoning,  carried 
out  to  its  legitimate  conclusion,  would  make  the  minds  of  all 
men  equal — even  that  of  the  man-eating  savage  or  the  idiotic 
cretin  would  compare  favorably  with  the  greatest  benefactors 
of  the  race.  The  Australian  on  his  log  and  Sir  Isaac  Newton, 
disembodied  and  deprived  of  the  imperfect  tools  of  the  present 
life,  would  become  co-artisans  of  equal  merit  in  that  land  where 
there  are  no  tools  to  work  with,  and  no  work  to  do." 

Mr.  Eliot  agreed  with  him  in  this  criticism,  and  proceeded  to 
give  the  materialistic  view,  or  such  deductions  as  science  is  able 
to  present,  by  quoting  from  Dr.  Austin  Flint's  work  on  "Human 
Physiology." 

"  'At  the  present  day,  we  are  in  possession  of  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  positive  facts  to  render  it  certain  that  there  is  and  can 


24  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

be  no  intelligence  without  brain-substance;  that,  when  brain- 
substance  exists  in  a  normal  condition,  intellectual  phenomena 
are  manifested  with  a  vigor  proportionate  to  the  amount  of 
matter  existing;  that  destruction  of  brain-substance  produces 
loss  of  intellectual  power ;  and,  finally,  that  exercise  of  the  intel- 
lectual faculties  involves  a  physiological  destruction  of  nervous 
substance,  necessitating  regeneration  by  nutrition  here  as  in 
other  tissues  of  the  living  organism.  The  brain  is  not,  strictly 
speaking,  the  organ  of  the  mind,  for  this  statement  would  imply 
that  the  mind  exists  as  a  force  independently  of  the  brain ;  but 
the  mind  is  produced  by  the  brain-substance;  and  intellectual 
force,  if  we  may  term  the  intellect  a  force,  can  be  produced  only 
by  the  transmutation  of  a  certain  quantity  of  matter.'  " 

The  stout  gentleman  was  pleased  with  the  mention  of  Dr. 
Flint,  and  said  that  he  knew  Flint  in  his  lifetime,  and  a  very 
able  man  he  was.  "But,"  he  continued,  ''if  Dr.  Flint  has  stated 
facts,  and  his  conclusion  be  true,  that  'mind  is  produced  by  the 
brain-substance,'  then  the  brain  becomes  a  functioning  organ, 
and  may  be  compared  to  other  organs  in  the  animal  body,  whose 
functions  are  well  established.  Bile,  tears,  saliva,  and  urine 
are  secretions  from  and  by  their  respective  organs,  the  liver,  the 
lachrymal  and  salivary  glands,  and  the  kidneys ;  so,  if  mind  is 
only  a  secretion  or  excretion  from  the  brain,  this  theory  stands 
on  as  poor  ground  as  the  preachers'  theory,  and  the  exclamation 
of  Pope  Leo  the  Tenth,  when  he  dismissed  his  prelates  from 
their  discussion  of  the  soul,  Et  redit  in  nihilum,  quod  fuit  ante 
nihil*  is  applicable  to  both,  and  the  'assertion'  of  Colonel  In- 
gersoll  remains  unchallenged  and  unrefuted." 

Our  philosopher  expected  this  sophism,  and  challenged  his 
opponent  in  these  words: 

"All  these  secretory  and  excretory  organs  have  blood  as  a 
material  from  which,  by  their  own  action,  the  various  secretions 
and  excretions  are  formed.  These  secretions  are  material  sub- 
stances, and  may  be  reduced  to  about  the  same  elements  as  the 
blood  from  which  they  are  fonned. 

"You  may  ask  if  the  brain  has  not  blood  also. 


*It  began  of  nothing  and  in  nothing  it  ends. 


Mind  and  Brain.  25 

"I  would  answer  yes,  and  a  veiy  abundant  supply,  but  it  is 
for  the  nutrition  of  the  brain-substance  itseK,  and  not  for  any 
secretory  purposes. 

"The  anatomy  of  the  liver  shoAvs  that  it  has  a  double  circu- 
lation, one  for  the  renewal  of  liver  substance  and  the  other  for 
the  purpose  of  fabricating  bile;  and  so  with  all  the  other  secre- 
tory organs  of  the  body.  The  spleen  is  the  only  organ  of  any 
consequence  except  the  brain  which  has  but  one  circulation,  and, 
as  there  is  no  visible  effect  of  splenic  action,  its  function  to  this 
day  is  problematical.  The  mind  being  the  product  of  brain- 
action,  the  question  arises,  'By  what  manner  of  means  is  this 
product  the  result  of  brain-action  V  Bile,  the  product  of  liver- 
action,  is  a  material  substance  made  of  blood,  another  material 
substance.  Mind,  the  product  of  brain-action,  is  immaterial, 
and  made  from — what? 

"That  like  begets  like  is  a  law  of  nature. 

"Tm^o  of  a  sort  will  beget  the  same  sort. 

"What  does  the  brain  make  the  mind  out  of?  Nothing? 
The  idea  of  creating  something  out  of  nothing  has  never  been 
allowed  to  any  power  save  Deity.  Does  it  make  it  out  of  itself? 
The  brain  is  material  substance,  and  to  admit  an  immaterial 
effect  from  a  material  cause  would  belie  the  law  that  like  pro- 
duces like." 

The  reader  will  perceive  now  that  eveiy  theoiy  and  every 
chemical  or  molecular  change  that  may  occur  in  the  brain  have 
been  examined  and  laid  aside,  and  that  the  present  tack  is  the 
only  one  that  holds  out  the  least  hope  of  a  rational  solution  of 
the  problem. 

The  subject  will  be  further  elucidated  in  the  next  chapter  by 
an  elaborate  argument  from  analogy. 


26  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

CHAPTER  X. 

ELECTRICITY. 

The  schoolmaster,  continuing  Lis  discourse,  brought  up,  as 
an  analogous  example  to  the  mind  and  brain,  one  of  the  most 
interesting  subjects  of  which  natural  philosophy  treats,  and 
addressing  his  companion  with  an  earnestness  unusual  to  an 
octogenarian  said:  "Electricity  is  undoubtedly  a  force  in  na- 
ture, yet  we  never  see  manifestations  of  it  except  when  con- 
trolled by  or  controlling  matter ;  and  electrical  force,  like  intel- 
lectual force,  can  be  produced  only  by  the  transmutation  of  a 
certain  quantity  of  matter.  It  is  as  immaterial  as  mind  itself, 
and  bears  the  same  relation  to  matter  that  mind  does  to  brain- 
substance.  It  is  true  that  very  dissimilar  combinations  of  mat- 
ter can  be  made  to  develop  the  phenomena  of  electricity,  while 
brain-substance  alone  is  able  to  develop  mind;  still,  this  can  be 
no  argument  against  the  analogous  relations  of  the  two,  when 
we  take  into  consideration  that  one  is  an  organized,  and  the 
other  an  unorganized  force.  We  might  ask  the  same  questions 
about  electricity  and  its  connection  with  matter  that  we  asked 
about  mind  and  its  connection  with  brain-substance,  and  the 
same  answers  would  be  applicable  to  both.  That  electricity 
occupies  space  between  material  bodies  is  not  disputed,  and, 
moreover,  it  may  be  concentrated  and  stored  up  by  machines 
and  used  at  will,  or  it  may  be  transferred  from  one  body  into 
another  and  held,  or  it  may  be  allowed  to  dissipate  itself  again 
into  space.  Matter,  then,  is  one  thing,  and  electricity  is  another 
thing.  Brain-substance  is  one  thing,  and  mind  is  another  thing. 
Electrical  machines,  by  the  transmutation  of  a  certain  quantity 
of  matter,  make  manifest  electricity,  which  exists  independently 
of  the  electrical  machines.  Brain-substance,  by  the  transmuta- 
tion of  a  certain  quantity  of  matter,  makes  manifest  mind, 
which  exists  independently  of  brain-substance." 

At  this  point  the  lecturer  interrupted  the  old  man  by  saying: 
"The  course  of  reasoning  you  have  adopted  by  your  system  of 
exclusion,  and  your  appeals  to  exceptions  or  denials,  would  leave 
no  other  conclusion  possible  except  the  one  you  have  arrived  at ; 


Electricity.  27 

but  you  are  still  in  a  dilemma  as  to  the  priority  of  matter  or 
electricity,  of  brain-substance  or  mind." 

"I  understood,"  replied  the  teacher,  "that  we  had  decided 
that  mind  in  its  individuality  or  personality  is  secondary  to 
brain-substance;  as  the  argument  advanced  by  Dr.  Draper,  to 
the  contrary,  led  to  so  many  absurdities  that  you  yourself  first 
pointed  them  out.  But,  as  that  was  more  of  a  speculation  than 
a  rational  conclusion,  I  will  endeavor  to  show  why  the  indi- 
vidual mind  is  secondary  to  brain-substance,  and  why  brain- 
substance  is  secondary  to  mind  as  a  whole." 

"I  am  a  good  listener,"  observed  his  companion,  "and  have 
good  ears — proceed." 

"In  the  first  place,"  he  continued,  "the  facts  stated  by  Dr. 
Flint  make  it  positively  certain  that  there  can  be  no  (indi- 
vidual) mind  without  brain-substance." 

The  lecturer  answered  this  by  quoting  Dr.  Draper's  illustra- 
tion of  the  artisan  and  tool. 

"  'An  accomplished  artisan  cannot  display  his  powers  through 
an  imperfect  tool,  nor,  if  the  tool  should  be  broken  or  become 
useless  through  impairment,  is  it  any  proof  that  the  artisan  has 
ceased  to  exist ;  and  so,  though  we  admit  that  there  is  a  cor- 
respondence between  the  development  of  the  mind  and  the 
growth  of  the  body,  we  deny  that  it  follows  from  that,  either 
that  the  mind  did  not  pre-exist  or  that  the  death  of  the  body 
implies  its  annihilation.'  " 

"Dr.  Draper  has  a  very  nice  way  of  putting  things,"  replied 
the  old  man ;  "but  if  each  individual  mind  pre-existed  each  indi- 
vidual brain,  then  each  individual  mind  must  either  have  existed 
from  all  eternity,  or  have  come  into  existence  at  some  indefinite 
time  prior  to  each  individual  brain,  and  in  either  case  the  con- 
clusion would  be  an  absurdity." 

"Why  an  absurdity?"  asked  his  companion. 

"Because,  if  the  mind  existed  from  all  eternity,  it  would  be 
self -existent,  and  in  consequence  be  subject  to  no  law.  It  would 
be  conditionless,  which  we  know  to  be  untrue,  as  every  mind  is 
subject  to  the  law  of  its  own  surroundings  and  conditions.  If 
it  is  made  by  some  power  other  than  itself,  and  made  to  be  the 
owner  and  user  of  each  individual  brain,  and  made  prior  to 
that  brain,  then  we  have  a  mind-maker,  and  that  mind-maker 


28  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

either  makes  mind  out  of  something  or  creates  it  out  of  nothing ; 
and  to  admit  the  power  to  create  at  all,  is  to  admit  a  creator, 
and  that  would  end  this  investigation.  The  individual  mind, 
then,  is  secondary  to  the  individual  brain;  hut  that  brain  is 
secondary  to  collective  mind,  or  mind  as  a  whole,  is  proved  by 
the  fact  that,  for  an  individual  mind  to  be  secondary  to  any 
individual  brain,  that  individual  brain  must  stand  in  the  rela- 
tion of  cause  and  effect  to  its  individual  mind;  and,  as  brain- 
substance  cannot  create  or  make  mind  out  of  nothing,  it  must 
have  mind  as  a  whole,  or  collective  mind,  as  a  source  of  supply 
upon  which  it  can  draw,  in  order  to  make  manifest  any  indi- 
vidual mind.  The  electrical  machine  has  electricity  as  a  whole 
to  draw  upon,  before  it  can  collect  and  store  up  any  individual 
charge  of  electricity." 

"You  speak  of  collective  mind,  or  mind  as  a  whole,"  observed 
the  stout  gentleman.  "Do  I  understand  you  to  mean  that  this 
collective  mind  pervades  all  space,  is  universal — everywhere  ?" 

"I  mean  this,"  said  the  old  teacher,  "that  mind  outside  of 
brain  is  like  time  outside  of  the  present  moment,  like  space  out- 
side of  your  own  surroundings — limitless.  If  mind  had  not 
existed  before  brain,  brain  never  could  have  made  it  manifest, 
unless  we  allow  to  brain  a  creative  power.  If  mind  did  exist 
before  brain,  then  to  say  when  it  began  to  exist  is  equivalent  to 
saying  when  time  began  to  exist.  If  mind  does  or  ever  did  exist 
outside  of  brain,  then  it  is  not  circumscribed — it  is  infinite." 

"Even  if  we  grant  your  position  of  a  universal  mind,"  replied 
the  lecturer,  "infinity  of  mind  does  not  necessarily  imply  the 
existence  of  an  infinite  being.  It  may  be  that  this  universal 
mind  is  latent,  and  shows  no  activity  until  concentrated  and 
individualized  by  the  action  of  brain-substance." 

"We  know,"  said  the  old  man,  "that  electricity  is  active  be- 
fore it  is  concentrated  by  the  electrical  machine,  and  if  mind 
pervades  the  universe  outside  of  brain,  and  is  only  active  when 
concentrated,  stored  up,  and  made  manifest  by  brain,  if  all  space 
between  material  bodies  be  filled  up  with  inactive  mind,  and  is 
only  drawn  upon  by  the  poor  little  brains  of  fishes  and  birds  and 
animals  and  man,  of  insects,  and  the  mites  of  the  microscopic 
world,  then  we  must  say  that  the  supply  is  out  of  all  proportion 
to  the  demand ;  but  if  this  omnipresent  mind  thinks,  and  the  evi- 


Electricity.  29 

dence  that  it  does  is  so  great  that  we  cannot  doubt  it,  then  we 
have  an  infinite  intelligence,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  and  an  in- 
finite intelligence  without  the  existence  of  'being'  is  scarcely 
conceivable." 

"Your  argument  is  ingenious,"  answered  the  stout  gentleman, 
"but  it  is  not  sufficient  to  nullify  the  assertion  of  Colonel  Inger- 
soll.  The  tack  may  be  in  the  right  direction,  but  the  wind  is  not 
strong  enough  to  fill  the  sails." 

"Perhaps,"  replied  the  old  man,  "we  may  be  able  to  find  some 
additional  negations,  in  the  doctrine  of  dysteleology,  or  pur- 
poselessness  in  nature,  which,  added  to  this  ingenious  tack,  may 
fill  the  sails  enough  to  keep  the  ship  moving." 


30  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

DESIGN. 

The  schoolmaster  continued  tlie  conversation  thus: 

"The  argument  of  design  has  suffered  more  at  the  hands  of 
its  friends  than  of  its  enemies.  The  former  have  made  it  a  mass 
of  contradiction  by  denying  much  of  its  essence,  while  the  latter 
simply  ignore  it.  They  have  likewise  made  Jehovah  the  butt  of 
ridicule  by  denying  him  many  of  his  attributes,  and  investing 
him  with  too  much  of  human  virtue.  He  has  become  a  crowned 
demigod  upon  the  altars  of  superstition  and  fear,  and  no  God 
to  the  intellect  of  man.  What  we  are  seeking  here  is  an  un- 
known quantity.  If  we  find  that  quantity  to  contain  mercy,  all 
right.  If  we  find  it  sodden  with  envy,  spite  and  malice,  it  mat- 
ters not.  If  we  find  in  it  all  the  elements  of  human  character, 
shall  we  be  chagrined?  Suppose  we  find  the  God  of  the  Bible, 
shall  Colonel  Ingersoll  be  imhappy?  or,  if  we  find  an  'infinite 
vacuum,'  shall  he  rejoice?" 

"Colonel  Ingersoll  would  rejoice  to  find  the  truth,"  observed 
the  stout  gentleman. 

"Then  let's  seek  the  truth  with  such  means  as  we  have,"  said 
the  teacher,  and  continuing  his  discourse,  said:  "The  doctrine 
of  dysteleology,  or  purposelessness  in  nature,  offers  a  wide  scope 
to  the  discerning  powers,  and  must  in  a  reasonable  measure 
account  for  facts,  or  take  its  place  with  design  as  ordinarily 
presented,  and  the  infinite  goodness  of  Jehovah.  As  we  have 
said  before,  one  fact  impinging  upon  any  theory  will  undo  the 
theory  and  make  it  untenable.  Haeckel,  in  his  'Evolution  of 
Man,'  speaking  of  the  rudimentary  organs  of  animals,  says : 
'They  are  among  the  most  interesting  phenomena  \vith  which 
comparative  anatomy  acquaints  us,  because  they  most  forcibly 
refute  the  customary  teleological  philosophy  of  the  schools. 
They  must  be  regarded  as  parts  which  in  the  course  of  many 
generations  have  gradually  been  disused  and  drawn  from  active 
service.  Owing  to  disuse  and  consequent  loss  of  function,  the 
organs  gradually  waste  away,  and  finally  entirely  disappear. 
Hence,  they  are  of  the  greatest  philosophical  importance;  they 
clearly  prove  that  the  mechanical  conception  of  organisms  is 


Design.  31 

alone  correct.'  This  'mechanical  conception  of  organisms'  makes 
sexual  attraction  dependent  upon  the  'elective  affinity  of  two 
differing  cells — the  sperm-cell  and  the  egg-cell/ 

"The  words  of  Haeckel  are  these:  'The  coalescence  of  two 
cells  is  everywhere  the  single,  original  impelling  force.  At  first, 
the  two  united  cells  may  have  been  entirely  alike.  Soon,  how- 
ever, by  natural  selection,  a  contrast  must  have  arisen  between 
them.  One  cell  became  a  female  egg-cell,  the  other,  a  male  seed 
or  sperm-cell.'  Was  ever  assumption  more  gratuitous?  Did 
ecclesiastical  bigotry  ever  formulate  a  more  dogmatic  conclu- 
sion? And  yet  the  mechanical  theory  of  the  universe  is  built 
upon  just  such  foundations.  After  paying  a  passionate  tribute 
to  love  as  the  'source  of  the  most  splendid  creations  of  art,  and 
reverencing  it  as  the  most  powerful  factor  in  human  civiliza- 
tion,' he  says :  'So  wonderful  is  love,  and  so  immeasurably 
important  is  its  influence  on  mental  life,  on  the  most  varied 
functions  of  the  medullary  tube,  that  in  this  point  more  than 
any  other,  "supernatural"  causation  seems  to  mock  every  natu- 
ral explanation.  A  theory  which  is  founded  only  upon  a  "must," 
ought  not  to  complain  of  a  similar  theory,  because  it  sets  out 
with  the  "Supernatural,"  and  seems  to  mock  at  the  explanations 
of  its  degenerate  offspring,  however  much  it  may  claim  to  be 
natural.'  " 

"I  think,"  replied  the  lecturer,  "that  you  do  Professor  Haeckel 
an  injustice,  by  quoting  only  a  part  of  what  he  has  said  on  this 
subject.  A  reading  of  his  book  may  place  a  different  construc- 
tion upon  the  doctrine  of  purposelessness  versus  design  in  na- 
ture. Having  the  book  in  my  traveling  bag,  with  your  permis- 
sion, I  will  read  that  portion  which  bears  directly  upon  this 
theory." 

And  taking  from  his  satchel  the  first  volume  of  the  "Evolu- 
tion of  Man,"  he  read  on  page  109,  from  the  article  "Dysteleol- 
ogy,"  these  words : 

"Almost  every  organism,  with  the  exception  of  the  lowest  and 
most  imperfect,  and  especially  every  highly  developed  vegetable 
or  animal  body,  man  as  well  as  others,  possesses  one  or  more 
structures  which  are  useless  to  its  organism,  valueless  for  its 
life-purposes,  worthless  for  its  functions.  Thus  all  of  us  have 
in  our  bodies  various  muscles  which  we  never  use ;  for  example. 


32  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

the  muscles  in  the  external  ear  and  the  parts  immediately  sur- 
rounding it.  These  outer  and  inner  ear  muscles  are  of  great 
use  to  most  animals,  especially  such  as  have  the  power  of  erec1>- 
ing  the  ears,  because  the  form  and  position  of  the  ear  may  thus 
be  materially'  altered,  in  order  to  take  in  the  various  waves  of 
sound  in  the  best  possible  manner.  In  man,  however,  and  in 
other  animals  not  possessing  the  power  of  pricking  up  the  ears, 
the  muscles,  though  present,  are  useless.  xVs  our  ancestors  long 
ago  discontinued  to  make  use  of  them,  we  have  lost  the  power 
of  moving  them.  Again,  there  is  in  the  inner  corner  of  our  eye 
a  small  crescent-shaped  or  semi-lunar  fold  of  skin,  the  last  rem- 
nant of  a  third  inner  eyelid,  the  so-called  nictitating  membrane. 
In  our  primitive  relatives,  the  sharks,  and  in  many  other  verte- 
brates, this  membrane  is  highly  developed,  and  of  great  use  to 
the  eye,  but  with  us  it  is  abortive  and  entirely  useless.  On  the 
intestinal  canal  we  have  an  appendage  which  is  not  only  use- 
less, but  may  become  very  injurious,  the  so-called  vermiform 
appendage  of  the  caecum.  This  little  appendage  of  the  intestine 
not  infrequently  causes  fatal  disease.  If  in  the  process  of  diges- 
tion, by  an  unlucky  accident,  a  cherry-stone  or  some  other  hard 
body  is  pressed  into  its  narrow  passage,  a  violent  inflammation 
ensues,  which  usually  causes  death.  The  vermiform  appendage 
is  not  of  the  slightest  use  in  our  organism ;  it  is  the  last  and 
dangerous  remnant  of  an  organ  which  was  much  larger  in  our 
vegetarian  ancestors,  and  was  of  great  use  to  them  in  digestion, 
as  it  is  still  in  many  herbivorous  animals,  such  as  apes  and 
rodents,  in  which  it  is  of  considerable  size  and  of  great  physio- 
logical importance. 

"Other  similar  rudimentary  organs  exist  in  us  as  in  all  higher 
animals,  in  different  parts  of  the  body.  They  are  among  the 
most  interesting  phenomena  with  which  comparative  anatomy 
acquaints  us :  firstly,  because  they  afford  the  most  obvious  proof 
of  the  theory  of  descent ;  and,  secondly,  because  they  most  forci- 
bly refute  the  customary  teleological  philosophy  of  the  schools. 
The  doctrine  of  descent  renders  the  explanation  of  these  remark- 
able phenomena  very  simple.  They  must  be  regarded  as  parts 
which  in  the  course  of  many  generations  have  gradually  been 
disused  and  withdrawn  from  active  service.  Owing  to  disuse 
and  consequent  loss  of  function,  the  organs  gradually  waste 


Design.  33 

away,  and  finally  entirely  disappear.  The  existence  of  inidi- 
mentary  organs  admits  of  no  other  explanation.  Hence,  they 
are  of  the  greatest  philosophical  importance;  they  clearly  prove 
that  the  mechanical  or  monistic  conception  of  the  nature  of 
organisms  is  alone  correct,  and  that  the  prevailing  teleological 
or  dualistic  method  of  accounting  for  them  is  entirely  false. 
The  very  ancient  fahle  of  the  all-wise  plan  according  to  which 
'the  Creator's  hand  has  ordained  all  things  with  wisdom  and 
understanding,'  the  empty  phrase  about  the  purposive  'plan  of 
structure'  of  organisms,  is  in  this  way  completely  disproved. 
Stronger  arguments  can  hardly  be  furnished  against  the  cus- 
tomary teleology  or  doctrine  of  design,  than  the  fact  that  all 
more  highly  developed  organisms  possess  such  rudimentary  or- 
gans." 

"I  am  glad,"  replied  the  ancient  schoolmaster,  "that  you  hap- 
pened to  have  the  book,  for  the  whole  extract  places  the  doctrine 
in  a  more  awkward  position  than  did  the  few  lines  I  chanced  to 
remember. 

"A  doctrine  which  so  easily  accounts  for  these  rudimentary 
organs  surely  ought  to  account,  with  equal  facility,  for  organs 
and  functions  which  still  remain  in  active  use  and  operation. 
The  human  eye,  if  I  remember  correctly,  occupies  ten  pages  in 
the  'Evolution  of  Man.'  This  is  the  way  he  commences  his  de- 
scription :  'The  history  of  the  development  of  the  eye  is  equally 
remarkable  and  instructive.  For  although  the  eye,  owing  to  its 
exquisite  optical  arrangement  and  wonderful  structure,  is  one 
of  the  most  complex  and  most  nicely  adapted  organs,  yet  it 
develops,  without  a  preconceived  design,  from  a  very  simple 
rudiment  in  the  outer  skin  covering.'  While  he  can  so  readily 
account  for  'the  last  remnant  of  a  third  inner  eyelid,  the  so- 
called  nictitating  membrane,'  he  does  not  once  mention  a  little 
contrivance  in  the  appendages  to  the  eyeball  by  which  the  move- 
ment called  rotation  is  effected.  We  can  but  admire  the  silence 
of  Professor  Haeckel  on  one  of  the  most  important  systems  of 
the  animal  body  in  his  attempt  to  prove  that  man  is  the  blood- 
relative  of  apes  and  worms.  In  these  two  exhaustive  volumes 
of  over  nine  hundred  pages,  he  devotes  ten  lines  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  muscular  system,  yet  this  system  gives  form  and 
3 


34  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

elasticity,  beauty  and  strength  to  the  body,  and  is  a  maze  of 
mechanical  principles  subservient  to  beauty  and  use. 

"In  the  eye  socket  is  a  little  fusifonu  muscle,  whose  use  it  is 
to  rotate  the  eyeball,  and  to  do  this,  it  must  pull  the  globe  in 
another  direction  from  itself.  This  is  accomplished  by  the 
muscle  passing  over  a  pulley  on  the  same  principle  of  the  block 
and  tackle.  How  did  it  get  over  the  pulley?  Is  this  fact  a 
result  of  the  terrible  and  ceaseless  'struggle  for  existence'  ?  Did 
this  little  muscle  have  such  a  craving  desire  for  existence,  that 
it  projected  itself  over  the  pulley,  and  submitted  to  be  doubled 
up  on  itself,  for  the  sake  of  being  there ;  or  did  the  eye  have  such 
a  longing  for  being  rolled  about,  that  it  built  up  this  muscle,  and 
hung  this  tendon  over  the  pulley,  because  there  was  no  other 
room  in  the  orbit  for  it?  Explain  this  muscle,  and  I  yield  at 
once  to  the  doctrine  of  purposelessness." 

"Colonel  Ingersoll,"  replied  the  lecturer,  "in  his  second  letter 
to  Dr.  Field,  answered  the  argument  of  design  in  these  words: 
'You  see  what  you  call  evidences  of  intelligence  in  the  universe, 
and  you  draw  the  conclusion  that  there  must  be  an  infinite 
intelligence.  Your  conclusion  is  far  wider  than  your  premise. 
It  is  illogical  to  say,  because  of  the  existence  of  this  earth,  and 
of  what  you  can  see  in  and  about  it,  that  there  must  be  an  infi- 
nite intelligence.  You  do  not  know  that  even  the  creation  of 
this  world,  and  of  all  planets  discovered,  required  an  infinite 
power  or  infinite  Avisdom.  I  admit  that  it  is  impossible  for  me 
to  look  at  a  watch  and  draw  the  inference  that  there  was  no 
design  in  its  construction,  or  that  it  only  happened.  I  could 
not  regard  it  as  a  product  of  some  freak  of  nature,  neither  could 
I  imagine  that  its  various  parts  were  brought  together  and  set 
in  motion  by  chance.  I  am  not  a  believer  in  chance.  But  there 
is  a  vast  difference  between  what  a  man  has  made,  and  the  ma- 
terials of  which  he  has  constructed  the  things  he  has  made. 
You  find  a  watch,  and  you  say  that  it  exhibits  or  shows  design. 
You  insist  that  it  is  so  wonderful  it  must  have  had  a  designer; 
in  other  words,  that  it  is  too  wonderful  not  to  have  been  con- 
structed. You  then  find  the  watchmaker;  and  you  say  with 
regard  to  him,  that  he,  too,  must  have  had  a  designer,  for  he  is 
more  wonderful  than  the  watch.  In  imagination  you  go  from 
the  watchmaker  to  the  being  you  call  God;  and  you  say  he  de- 


Design.  35 

signed  the  watchmaker,  but  he  himself  was  not  designed,  be- 
cause he  is  too  wonderful  to  have  been  designed. 

"  'And,  yet,  in  the  case  of  the  watch  and  the  watchmaker,  it 
was  the  wonder  that  suggested  design,  while  in  the  case  of  the 
maker  of  the  watchmaker,  the  wonder  denied  a  designer.  Do 
you  not  see  that  this  argument  devours  itself  V  " 

"Colonel  Ingersoll  was  then  contending  with  a  preacher,"  said 
the  old  man,  "and  he  was  combating  an  assumption.  Dr.  Field 
assumed  God.  In  this  case  nothing  has  been  assumed ;  but  from 
one  single  fact,  which  you  dare  not  deny,  an  infinite  intelligence 
has  been  demonstrated  by  reasoning  which  is  incontrovertible. 
If  this  infinite  intelligence  is  the  same  which  Dr.  Field  assumed, 
then  instead  of  Dr.  Field's  argument  devouring  itself,  your 
own  has  become  a  felo-de-se." 


36  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HYBRIDS    AND    PHYSIOLOGICAL    PAIN. 

The  old  gentleman,  continuing  his  argument,  said :  "It  is  a 
well-known  fact  that  there  is  a  class  of  animals  in  the  world 
known  as  hybrids.  These  animals  are  generally  produced  by 
the  intervention  of  man;  but  we  cannot  deny  that  they  are  a 
product  of  nature,  and  that  they  may,  and  do,  occasionally,  come 
about  without  any  interference  on  the  part  of  man.  Every 
close  observer  must  have  noticed  the  almost  insatiable  eroticism 
of  these  animals.  The  genital  organs  in  both  sexes  are  perfect 
with  one  exception — that  of  function;  they  are  barren.*  The 
common  mule  is  a  type  of  this  class,  and  is  bred  for  man's  ben- 
efit alone.  It  is  one  of  the  most  erotic  of  animals.  The  male 
is  without  spei-m-cells,  the  female  has  no  egg-cells.  The  true 
function  of  the  genital  organs  has  never  been  exercised.  The 
secondaiy  function,  that  of  copulation,  has  been  exercised  so 
rarely  that  it  amounts  to  'disuse,'  yet  these  organs  have  neither 
become  atrophied  nor  rudimentary." 

"It  seems-  to  me,"  replied  the  stout  gentleman,  "that  it  is 
straining  a  point  to  bring  hybrids  into  the  controversy.  These 
animals  are  an  exception  to  the  general  rule.  For  their  pro- 
duction it  requires  an  amalgamation  of  two  distinct  species, 
and  if  reproduction  was  possible  to  this  class,  the  result  could 
not  be  a  hybrid,  but  another  distinct  species.  'Disuse'  can  have 
nothing  to  do  with  any  of  the  organs  in  the  hybrid  body,  as 
each  individual  of  this  class  stands  in  the  same  cognate  position 
with  the  first  as  with  the  last  that  might  come  upon  the  earth. 
Evolution  is  at  a  standstill  with  regard  to  hybrids.  They  are 
an  exception  to  the  law." 

"I  am  glad  to  see,"  remarked  the  old  gentleman,  "that  your 
eyes  are  beginning  to  open.  There  is  more,  I  dare  say,  on  this 
line,  than  you  have  thought  of.  Another  fact  connected  with 
the  animal  body  is  worthy  of  study — the  pains  of  parturition. 

"For  all  other  pains  to  which  the  animal  economy  is  subject, 
there  is  an  adequate  cause,  a  justifiable  and  pathological  reason. 


*The  "Mechanical  Conception  of  Organisms"  makes  sexual  attraction  dependent 
upon  the  "elective  affinity  of  two  differing  cells,  the  sperm-cell  and  the  egg-cell." 


Hi^brids  and  Physiological  Pain.  37 

For  this  pain  science  is  a  sealed  book,  physiology  is  dumb,  and 
pathology  has  no  answer.  According  to  all  analogy,  the  partu- 
rient uterus  ought  to  contract  Avithout  pain.  The  heart,  stom- 
ach, bladder,  and  other  hollow  muscles  cause  no  pain  either  in 
distention  or  contraction;  then  wherefore  the  womb?  I£  preg- 
nancy be  a  pathological  condition,  then  law  is  at  fault.  If 
according  to  nature,  wherefore  the  pain?  No  law  can  be  for- 
mulated from  one  isolated  fact,  neither  can  any  known  law  hang 
the  tendon  of  a  muscle  over  a  pulley.  The  barrenness  of 
hybrids  is  the  strongest  kind  of  proof  against  the  transmutation 
of  species,  and  their  salacious  propensities  in  connection  with 
their  inability  to  procreate  would  place  them  outside  the  limits 
of  law." 

"If,"  obseiwed  the  lecturer,  "you  place  them  outside  the 
limits  of  law,  they  would  become  outlaws." 

"And  truly  so,"  replied  the  teacher.  "ISTature  has  outlaws  as 
well  as  society.  The  budding  of  fruit-trees  is  a  species  of  out^ 
lawry  which  nature  will  not  permit  for  many  generations  in 
succession.  After  a  while  it  becomes  impossible  to  make  the 
bud  live.  There  is  not  a  race  of  mulattoes  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  They  will  go  back,  and  all  be  white  or  all  negroes,  or 
all  die  out.  And  so  with  improved  stock.  They  revert  to  their 
original  place  as  soon  as  the  hand  of  man  is  withdrawn." 

"Would  you  place  physiological  pain  in  the  same  category?" 
asked  the  lecturer. 

"There  is  no  other  place  to  put  it,"  replied  the  teacher. 
"Physiological  pain  is  an  anomaly  in  nature,  still  it  cannot  be 
called  a  freak,  for  a  regular  recurrence  of  any  fact  will  destroy 
the  idea  of  supeiwenient  causes." 

"I  infer,"  said  the  lecturer,  "from  your  mode  of  reasoning, 
that  you  regard  physiological  pain,  hybrids,  and  the  various 
improvements  upon  natural  products,  together  with  the  results 
of  the  destructive  efforts  of  man,  as  being  extrinsic  to  natural 
processes,  and,  as  such,  should  be  placed  outside  of  natural 
law." 

"You  seem  to  have  the  idea,"  said  the  old  man,  "but  I  fear 
you  may  draw  inferences  which  would  not  be  justified  by  the 
introspection.  !N^ature  cannot  do  an  unnatural  thing,  neither 
can  man.     We  speak  of  man's  work  as  being  artificial  only  as 


38  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

a  result  whicli  nature  would  not  and  could  not  accomplisli  with- 
out individual  intelligences.  It  cannot  be  unnatural,  because 
every  product  of  an  individual  intelligence  (such  as  a  shoe  or 
a  hat,  for  instance)  is  artificial  in  the  sense  that,  for  its  accom- 
plishment, the  individual  intelligence  has  modified  and  utilized 
the  means  placed  at  its  command  by  the  universal  intelligence, 
and  in  this  sense  alone  can  it  be  called  unnatural.  Likewise, 
pain  produced  by  the  throes  of  a  parturient  uterus,  together 
with  hybrid  products,  while  they  are  perfectly  natural,  must  be 
regarded  as  bearing  the  same  relation  to  the  regular  current  of 
natural  events  which  the  artificial  products  of  man  sustain  to 
natural  law;  and,  there  being  nothing  analogous  in  nature  to 
these  special  and  arbitrary  effects,  we  are  obliged  to  regard 
them  as  the  ipse  dixit  of  that  infinite  intelligence  of  which  the 
mind  of  man  is  an  infinitesimal  reflection." 

"It  appears,  then,"  said  the  lecturer,  "that  all  your  array  of 
logical  sequences  has  only  brought  you  at  last  to  the  irrational 
assumption  of  the  average  theologian,  and  that  Dr.  Field's 
Presbyterian  God  is  the  unknown  quantity  which  you  have 
sought  with  so  much  labor." 

"The  answer  we  may  find,"  replied  the  teacher,  "in  the  solu- 
tion of  any  problem  does  not  and  cannot  depend  upon  our  likes 
or  dislikes.  To  me,  individually,  it  is  a  matter  of  perfect  indif- 
ference whether  God,  devil,  heaven,  hell,  or  immortality  be  fact 
or  fiction.  I  would  not  change  it  from  what  it  is  if  I  had  the 
power;  but  it  being  a  fact  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle 
are  equal  to  two  right  angles,  I  am  glad  to  know  it.  So,  if  God 
is,  I  wish  to  know  it ;  if  hell  be  a  fact,  I  Avish  to  know  that.  I 
have  no  feeling  in  the  matter.  All  I  can  do  is  to  learn  the 
truth  according  to  the  lights  before  me." 

At  this  speech,  the  stout  gentleman  made  a  spasmodic  and 
involuntary  effort  to  flirt  the  rudimentary,  nictitating  mem- 
brane of  his  "primitive  ancestors"  over  the  visual  organ,  as  if 
to  remove  a  mote  or  to  diagnose  the  disease  nyctalopia,  but  find- 
ing the  effort  useless,  and  the  impliciti  morbi  more  in  the  brain 
than  in  the  eye,  he  gazed  earnestly  at  this  dried-up  specimen  of 
aged  humanity,  and  asked  in  tones  of  astonishment: 

"What  kind  of  man  are  you?  I  have  been  endeavoring  for 
two  hours  to  get  at  what  you  believe,  and  I  am  more  at  a  loss 


Hi^brids  and  Physiological  Pain.  39 

than  ever.  You  couimit  yourself  to  uothing.  Even  the  deduc- 
tions of  your  own  strange  mode  of  reasoning  are  not  affirmed. 
You  start  with  what  you  call  the  fact  of  the  human  mind,  and 
reason  out  in  your  oyn\  way  another  fact,  which  you  call  an 
infinite  intelligence.  You  seem  to  argue  that  the  intelligence 
of  man  is  nothing  but  an  accumulation  of  a  bit  of  this  infinite 
intelligence  in  the  brain  of  each  individual,  to  perpetrate  petty 
acts  for  good  and  evil,  so  long  as  it  is  used  by  or  uses  the  brain 
with  Avhich  it  is  intimately  connected.  This  would  make  a 
theology  with  which  I  am  unacquainted," 

In  reply,  the  old  man  said :  "When  you  set  out  with  premises 
which  are  true,  axiomatic,  self-evident,  and  reason  logically,  the 
end  of  your  inquiry  is  truth.  The  result  should  neither  be 
anticipated  nor  imagined,  but  accepted  when  found,  whether 
we  like  or  dislike  it.  Hating  a  fact  cannot  make  it  false,  neither 
can  love  for  an  error  make  it  true. 

"A  broader  view  of  this  infinite  intelligence  might  enable  you 
to  understand  the  apparent  contradictions  in  the  Jewish  and 
Christian  theologies.  These  apparent  discrepancies,  garbled  by 
sophism  and  rhapsody,  present  to  the  murky  eye  of  ignorance 
a  tangled  skein  of  mysticism,  and  enable  such  men  as  Mr.  Inger- 
soll  to  pass  the  juggler's  pieces  of  their  scoffing  pyrrhonism  as 
true  coin." 

"It  is  with  difficulty,"  said  the  lecturer,  "that  I  get  your  ideas 
from  your  language.  What  do  you  mean  by  'o.  broader  view 
of  this  infinite  intelligence'  ?" 

"The  word  'infinite'  ought  to  give  you  a  hint  as  to  what  I 
mean.  Infinite  intelligence  implies  a  knowledge  of  all  igno- 
rance, all  error,  all  mistake.  It  is  not  confined  to  the  good,  the 
beautiful,  and  the  true.  It  takes  in  the  universe,  with  its  pleas- 
ures and  its  pains,  its  beauties  and  its  deformities.  As  man 
can  impart  his  knowledge  to  his  fellow-man  without  diminish- 
ing his  own,  so  the  infinite  intelligence  can,  without  detracting 
from  itself,  supply  all  the  brains  in  the  universe.  But,  as  a 
part  can  never  equal  the  whole,  to  say,  'An  infinite  God  has  no 
excuse  for  leaving  his  children  in  doubt  and  darkness,'  is  a 
travesty  upon  the  question,  'Why  should  the  infinite  ask  any- 
thing from  the  finite?'*     Colonel  Ingersoll  says:  'The  sentence, 


♦"Colonel  Ingersoll  to  Mr.  Gladstone,"  page  620. 


40  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"There  is  a  God,"  could  have  been  imprinted  on  every  blade  of 
grass,  on  every  leaf,  on  every  star.'*  The  same,  with  equal 
propriety,  might  be  said  of  this  sentence:  'The  three  angles  of 
a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles.'  Does  everybody  in 
the  world  know  this  mathematical  tnith?  Suppose  Colonel  In- 
gersoll's  mind  was  so  constructed  that  it  would  be  impossible 
for  him  to  comprehend  the  demonstration  of  this  problem,  and 
then  suppose  he  was  to  say,  'In  the  nature  of  things  there  can 
be  no  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  proposition  that  "the  three 
angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles"  ' :  would  this 
have  any  effect  upon  the  truth  of  the  proposition?  Infinite 
intelligence  implies  more  than  the  words  import.  To  condition 
in  word  or  thought,  in  act  or  attribute,  is  to  detract  from  in- 
finity; therefore,  being  is  as  much  of  a  necessar^'^  attribute  of 
infinite  intelligence  as  omniscience  or  omnipresence.  This  con- 
clusion may  appear  at  first  sight  to  be  a  non  sequitur;  but, 
reasoning  from  analogy,  we  can  but  place  it  in  the  catalogue 
of  syllogisms.  Our  perceptions  only  give  us  ideas  of  intelli- 
gence connected  with,  or  emanating  from,  human  beings;  and 
to  conceive  of  an  infinite  intelligence  without  the  attribute  of 
being,  is  as  impossible  as  to  conceive  of  an  individual  intelli- 
gence apart  from  a  human  being." 

"I  would  infer,"  said  the  lecturer,  "from  what  you  have 
already  said,  that  you  do  not  acknowledge  the  Presbyterian  God 
of  Dr.  Field,  yet  you  have  worked  up  in  your  own  mind  an 
infinite  being.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  your  conception 
of  this  being.  Is  he  the  God  of  the  Jew,  Christian  or  Moham- 
medan?    Who  is  he?     What  is  he?     What  is  his  character?" 

"My  argmnent,"  said  the  teacher,  "has  been,  all  the  way 
through  this  discussion,  to  nullify  the  'assertion'  of  Colonel  In- 
gersoll,  that  'there  can  be  no  evidence  of  the  existence  of  an 
infinite  being.'  If  the  evidence  adduced  is  of  any  value;  if  I 
have  been  able  to  show  that  the  theory  of  development  which 
involves  the  transmutation  of  species,  the  doctrine  of  purpose- 
lessness,  etc.,  is  based  upon  assumed  postulates,  and  by  pure 
reason  to  demonstrate  that  the  human  mind  would  be  an  impos- 
sibility from  a  physical  or  mechanical  conception  of  organ- 
isms— then  we  surely  have  arrived  at  God :  not  the  God  of  the 


♦"Letter  to  Dr.  Field,"  page  40. 


Hi^brids  and  Physiological  Pain.  41 

Presbyterians,  for  I  tlioroughly  agree  Avith  Colonel  IngersoU 
that  tlieir  description  of  God  more  nearly  resembles  an  'infinite 
vacuimi' ;  not  the  God  of  any  church  or  creed :  but  the  God  who 
says,  'I  foiTU  the  light  and  create  darkness;  I  make  peace  and 
create  evil';  the  God  who  said  to  the  woman,  *In  sorrow  shalt 
thou  bring  forth  children';  that  God  of  whom  Job  said,  'He 
breaketh  me  with  a  tempest,  and  multiplieth  my  wounds  with- 
out cause';  the  same  God  who  hated  Esau  and  loved  Jacob  be- 
fore they  were  yet  born;  he  who  put  wool  upon  the  negro's 
head,  and  straight  hair  upon  the  white  man's;  who  gave  the 
mule  to  man  for  a  beast  of  burden,  and  virtually  said,  'So  far 
shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther' ;  he  who  hung  the  tendon  of  the 
pathetic  muscle  over  a  pulley;  who  changed  the  two  coalescent 
primordial  cells,  one  into  male  and  the  other  into  female;  the 
same  God  who  capacitated  the  soul  of  Colonel  IngersoU  for 
such  emotional  states  as  the  following  words  would  imply : 

'*  'I  have  sometimes  wished  that  there  were  words  of  pure 
hatred  out  of  which  I  might  construct  sentences  like  snakes ; 
out  of  which  I  might  construct  sentences  with  mouths  fanged, 
that  had  forked  tongues;  out  of  which  I  might  construct  sen- 
tences that  writhed  and  hissed:  then  I  could  give  my  opinion 
of  the  rebels  during  the  great  struggle  for  the  preservation  of 
this  Nation.'*  The  same  God  whom  Colonel  IngersoU  so  cor- 
dially hates,  and  whose  existence  is  affected  by  this  hatred  about 
as  much  as  the  existence  of  rheumatism  is  affected  by  his  hatred 
for  that." 


♦Speeches,  Wit,  Wisdom,  and  Eloquence. 


42  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


PART  II. 

"he  is  uncommonly  powerful  in  his  own  line,  but  it  is  not 
the  line  of  a  first-rate  man." 

In  all  tlie  catalogue  of  human  frailties,  no  trait  is  more  cen- 
surable, more  justly  deserving  of  pity  and  contempt,  than  the 
overweening  egotism  of  oracular  wisdom. 

Poet  and  philosopher  have  combined  with  ridicule  and  blame, 
to  expunge  this  nauseous  dilettanteism  from  the  list  of  human 
foibles.  Pharisaical  notions  of  superior  wisdom  and  superior 
virtue  have  met  with  rebuif  at  the  high  court  of  the  manly 
intelligence. 

ITothing  but  the  most  brazen  impudence,  or  the  petrified  feel- 
ing of  utter  indifference,  or  the  unhallowed  desire  for  notoriety 
mingled  with  criminal  ignorance,  can  induce  any  one  to  pander 
to  the  baser  passions  of  mankind  in  an  attempt  to  subvert  truth, 
and  to  mock  at  the  sacred  beliefs  of  man. 

The  rottenness  of  priestcraft  has  no  more  to  do  with  religious 
truth  than  political  jobbery  has  to  do  with  statecraft.  Many 
a  foul  stream  flows  from  a  crystal  fountain,  and  to  condemn  the 
source  on  account  of  the  mingling  of  sewage  and  garbage  is  to 
condemn  the  siuishine  because  it  falls  upon  a  dung  heap. 

The  scientific  artisan  builds  a  burglar-proof  safe.  The  edu- 
cated burglar  devises  means  to  get  into  it.  Knowledge  is  the 
handmaid  of  the  bad  as  well  as  of  the  good.  The  oxyhydrogen 
blowpipe  in  the  hands  of  a  thief  Avill  silently  bum  a  hole 
through  steel  as  surely  as  it  will  do  the  same  work  for  the 
chemist.  Dynamite  will  exert  the  same  force  for  the  criminal 
that  it  does  for  the  engineer  or  the  miner. 

As  the  criminal  studies  science,  so  the  sophist  studies  art. 

Ornate  and  striking  sentences,  well-rounded  periods,  poetical 
effusions,  and  oratorical  grandiloquence  capture  the  senses  and 
inflame  the  passions. 

Logic  is  prosaic  and  dull ;  rhetoric  is  drunk  in  with  avidity 
while  it  moves  to  tears  or  excites  to  madness. 

The  picture  of  a  dying  Saviour  has  carried  more  penitents  to 
the  mourner's  bench  than  all  the  books  on  polemical  divinity. 


"Uncommonly  Powerful  in  His  Line."      43 

Tlie  slave-mother  deprived  of  her  babe  has  stirred  up  the 
bitterest  feelings  iu  Colonel  Ingersoll's  soul  and  caused  him  to 
rail  at  Jehovah. 

He  has  a  contempt  for  the  Christian  penitent,  while  the  slave- 
master  has  a  contempt  for  him.  Is  reason  the  arbiter  in  either 
case,  or  does  Colonel  Ingersoll  possess  all  and  the  other  two 
none? 

Is  truth  a  reality,  or  is  it  a  weather-cock,  to  be  bandied  about 
by  the  opinions  of  men  ? 

Theologians  and  lay-Christians  have  fought  infidelity  with 
the  Bible.  It  is  like  fighting  the  devil  with  snow-balls !  Satan 
pretends  to  be  a  great  reasoner,  a  profound  logician.  Daniel 
De  Foe,  in  writing  his  history,  proved  him  to  be  a  fool.  He  is 
the  same  fool  to-day  that  he  has  ever  been.  He  is  more  igno- 
rant than  criminal.  His  theories  are  confuted  by  well-known 
facts.  His  sayings,  tested  by  logic,  are  as  "sounding  brass  or  a 
tinkling  cymbal." 

Before  the  end  of  the  discussion  in  the  last  chapter,  the  train 
had  stopped  at  a  supply  station,  and  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
controversy,  several  gentlemen  entered  the  car,  and,  observing 
the  animated  debate  going  on  between  the  two  passengers,  natu- 
rally seated  themselves  in  close  proximity  to  the  disputants. 
Some  of  these  gentlemen  knew  the  younger  man,  and  had  heard 
him  lecture  on  his  favorite  subject.  They  were  familiar  also 
with  the  writings  of  Colonel  Ingersoll,  and  observing  the  atti- 
tude of  profound  earnestness  with  which  the  octogenarian  de- 
ported himself,  together  with  his  shriveled  and  almost  insignifi- 
cant appearance,  they  soon  became  an  audience  of  eager  listen- 
ers, while  the  old  teacher,  animated  still  more  by  their  attention, 
seemed  to  forget  that  he  was  a  long  way  from  home,  that  he  was 
traveling  at  the  rate  of  forty  miles  an  hour,  over  a  country  he 
had  never  seen  before,  and  that  he  was  talking  before  strangers 
to  whom  he  was  utterly  unknown,  and  whom  he  would  likely 
never  see  again. 

He  seemed  to  feel  that  he  was  in  his  native  pine  forest  in  the 
sand-hills  of  Carolina,  seated  behind  his  desk  in  the  little  log 
cabin  where  he  had  taught  class  after  class  for  the  past  half- 
century,  and  that  he  was  addressing  a  score  or  more  of  brawny 
young  brains  on  the  principles  of  logic. 


44  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

His  favorite  mode  of  teaching  for  many  years  had  been  by 
didactic  lectures,  and  his  pupils  were  made  up  from  the  better 
class  of  thinkers,  many  of  whom  had  been  to  college. 

As  age  encroached  upon  his  manhood,  and  diminished  his 
powers  of  bodily  endurance,  he  had  given  up  much  of  the  drudg- 
ery of  the  schoolroom,  and  instead  of  text-book  recitations,  he 
taught  principles  by  analyzing  the  current  thought  of  the  day, 
thus  presenting  information  in  its  most  attractive  form. 

After  this  manner  he  proceeded  to  analyze  the  philosophy, 
or,  as  he  called  it,  the  sophistry,  of  Colonel  Ingersoll,  and  ad- 
dressing himself  to  the  new  additions,  as  well  as  to  his  first  com- 
panion, he  said:  "In  his  first  reply  to  Dr.  Field,  the  Colonel 
says  'Reason  is  the  supreme  and  final  test.  If  God  has  made  a 
revelation  to  man,  it  must  have  been  addressed  to  his  reason. 
There  is  no  other  faculty  that  could  even  decipher  the  address. 
Extinguish  that  and  naught  remains.' 

"Here  we  can  cordially  shake  hands  with  the  great  iconoclast, 
yet  I  know  of  no  one  who  makes  more  pathetic  appeals  to  the 
feelings  and  passions. 

"With  his  thunder  and  invective,  what  a  famous  preacher  he 
would  have  made! 

"He  seems  to  think  that  Dr.  Field  was  trying  to  cozen  him 
mth  the  'fatherly'  advice  to  soften  his  colors.  Dr.  Field  was 
only  telling  him  the  truth,  when  he  told  him  that  his  words 
would  be  more  weighty  if  not  so  strong. 

"Voltaire,  Rousseau,  Paine  and  Hume  wrote  with  persuasive 
pens.  Gregg  wetted  the  pages  of  his  'Creed  of  Christendom' 
with  bitter  tears,  and  the  passionless  and  soulless  philosophy  of 
materialism  never  deals  in  invective. 

"The  continuous  diatribes  flowing  like  a  stream  of  mephitic 
vapor  from  the  mouth  and  pen  of  this  modern  apostle  of  ration- 
alism, hover  over  the  thoughtless  multitude,  and  sway  them  to 
and  fro  with  their  Jack-o'-lanteni  lights,  causing  hurrahs  for 
the  moment,  and  departing  like  the  specter  of  the  Brocken 
without  leaving  a  visible  track. 

"Sam  Jones,  or  any  other  popular  revivalist  with  a  similar 
use  of  language  and  the  same  personal  magnetism,  can  at  any 
moment  turn  the  same  tide  in  his  direction  with  a  wave  of  his 
wand. 


''Uncommonly  Powerful  in  His  Line."      45 

"It  is  the  forte  of  the  revivalist  to  coax  the  language  for  a 
picture ;  a  horrid  and  gloomy  portrait  of  hell — a  weapon  with 
which  he  wounds  the  softest  chords  of  the  mother's  heart,  and 
rends  the  tenderest  sympathies  of  innocent  childhood. 

"He  succeeds  in  making  miserable  for  a  short  time  his  wife 
and  his  baby,  his  mother  and  his  sister,  and  thinks  he  has  done 
God's  sen^ice.  He  talks  about  the  soul  as  though  he  had  a 
sample  in  his  pocket,  and  its  destiny  as  if  power  had  been  dele- 
gated to  him  for  its  disposal.  Should  the  philosopher  imitate 
the  priest? 

"And  more;  Colonel  Ingersoll  ought  to  remember  this  scien- 
tific fact,  that  nothing  is  lost;  that  the  'correlation  and  con- 
seiwation'  of  energy  is  an  admitted  truth,  that  force  is  inde- 
structible and  eternal. 

"He  might  also  study  with  advantage  the  teachings  of  dy- 
namical physiology,  and  learn  that  within  the  brain  there  is  a 
registering  ganglion  which  infallibly  records  every  imprint  re- 
ceived through  the  senses. 

"Whether  we  regard  the  brain  as  the  instrument  of  the  mind, 
or  the  mind  as  the  product  of  brain  action,  the  case  is  the  same. 
How  bad  then  it  is  to  have  error  stamped  upon  a  scroll  that  is 
incapable  of  being  filled — a  scroll  that  forever  retains  the  im- 
prints it  receives ! 

"This  registering  power  of  mind  keeps  an  accurate  account 
of  all  our  thoughts,  and  while  very  few  of  them  are  remembered, 
the  whole  scroll  is  so  carefully  preserved  that  it  may  not  inaptly 
be  compared  to  a  book. 

"  'And  I  saw  the  dead,  small  and  great,  stand  before  God ;  and 
the  books  were  opened,  and  another  book  was  opened,  which  is  the 
book  of  life,  and  the  dead  were  judged  out  of  those  things  which 
were  written  in  the  books,  according  to  their  works.' 

"What  a  theme  for  the  teachers  of  revelation  if  they  would 
give  their  lessons  from  a  scientific  standpoint,  instead  of  the 
hideous  object-lessons  portrayed  in  Dante's  'Inferno'  and  some 
modern  illustrated  Bibles. 

"With  these  facts  before  bim,  can  Colonel  Ingersoll  exclaim 
with  Rosseau:   'When  the  last  trumpet  shall  sound,  I  will  pre- 


46  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

sent  myself  before  the  sovereign  judge  with  his  book  in  my  hand, 
and  loudly  proclaim,  thus  have  I  acted ;  these  were  my  thoughts ; 
such  was  I'?* 

"A  worshiper  of  the  goddess  of  Eeason  should  be  consistent, 
at  any  rate,  for  when  inconsistency  walks  in,  reason  leaves  the 
house  without  an  adieu. 

"As  'the  tree  is  known  by  his  fruit,'  so  the  philosopher  is 
judged  by  his  maxims. 

Euclid  lived  in  the  fifth  century  B.  C.  His  axioms  have 
stood  the  test  of  criticism  more  than  two  thousand  years.  The 
mathematical  sciences  have  been  built  upon  his  sayings. 

"  'If  a  house  be  divided  against  itself,  that  house  cannot 
stand.'  Colonel  Ingersoll  has  built  a  huge  structure  which  he 
has  decorated  with  ornamental  scrolls,  and  painted  with  all  the 
colors  of  the  rainbow.  It  glitters  in  the  moonlight.  Beautiful 
coruscations  flash  like  the  wintry  aurora  around  its  dome. 
Upon  the  highest  pinnacle  he  has  placed  a  statue  of  Minerva. 
At  the  gilded  portals  may  be  read  in  shining  letters,  'Templum 
Sapientiw.'-f  In  moking  silence  the  statue  echoes  back,  'Satis 
eloquentiw,  sapientue  parvum.''^ 

"Minerva  is  impatient  upon  her  throne,  and  desires  to  abdi- 
cate. The  house  is  divided  against  itself.  The  foundation  is 
sand,  and  the  corner-stone,  what?  The  axioms  of  Colonel  In- 
gersoll. 

"Axiom  first.  'That  which  happens  must  happen.'  Axiom 
second.    'That  which  must  be  has  the  right  to  be.' 

"The  Colonel  is  to  be  admired  for  his  short,  crisp  way  of  say- 
ing things.  It  leaves  no  room  for  misunderstandings.  He  is  to 
be  admired  for  the  advice  he  gave  to  Dr.  Field,  when  he  said  :§ 
'Do  not,  I  pray  you,  deal  in  splendid  generalities.  Be  explicit.' 
He  is  to  be  admired  the  more  for  following  his  own  advice — for 
being  explicit.  A  syllogism  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  ever 
presented  to  a  reasoning  mind. 

"  'That  which  happens  must  happen.' 

"The  thumb-screw  happened,  therefore,  the  thumb-screw  must 
have  happened. 

"  'That  which  must  be  has  the  right  to  be.' 

*"Confessions."     t"Teraple  of  wisdom."     t"Much  eloquence,  but  little  wisdom." 
§"A  Reply  to  the  Rev.  Henry  M.  Field,"  pages  484-5. 


"Uncommonli^  Powerful  in  His  Line.''       47 

"The  thumb-screw  must  have  been,  therefore  it  had  the  right 
to  be. 

"Is  Colonel  Ingersoll  fighting  for  the  right  ? 

"  'That  which  happens  must  happen.' 

"ISTegro  slavery  happened,  therefore  negro  slavery  must  have 
happened. 

"  'That  which  must  be  has  the  right  to  be.' 

"JSTegro  slavery  must  have  been,  therefore  negro  slavery  had 
the  right  to  be. 

"Why  did  Colonel  Ingersoll  fight  against  negro  slavery? 

"  'That  which  happens  must  happen.' 

"It  happened  that  Guiteau  killed  Garfield,  therefore  the  kill- 
ing of  Garfield  must  have  happened. 

"  'That  which  must  be  has  the  right  to  be.' 

"The  killing  of  Garfield  must  have  been,  therefore  it  was  right 
for  him.  to  be  killed. 

"Did  the  United  States  Government  think  so? 

"Axiom  third.*  'To  exercise  a  right  yourself  which  you  deny 
to  me  is  simply  the  act  of  a  tyrant.' 

"Is  the  United  States  Government  a  tyrant?  In  killing 
Guiteau,  did  it  not  exercise  a  right  which  it  denied  to  him? 
What  would  syllogistic  reasoning  do  with  the  third  axiom  in 
this  case  ?  Is  it  possible  that  this  champion  of  liberty  and  free- 
dom should  uphold  the  act  of  a  tyrant  ? 

"He  boldly  says  that,"!-  'Society  has  the  right  to  protect  itself 
by  imprisoning  those  who  prey  upon  its  interests,'  and  'it  may 
have  the  right  to  destroy  the  life  of  one  dangerous  to  the  com- 
munity.' 

"How  did  it  come  by  such  rights?  By  the  consent  of  all  its 
citizens  ? 

"Nay,  my  good  friends,  the  right  to  take  life  is  the  right  of 
might. 

"Why  should  Colonel  Ingersoll  love  human  law  and  hate 
God's  law?  They  both  kill,  they  both  oppress;  they  ai'e  both 
formulated  upon  the  one  principle — power.  Is  he  consistent? 
Is  he  logical,  or  is  he  like  'Frankenstein'  ? 


*"A  Reply  to  the  Rev.  Henry  M.  Field,"  page  477. 
f'Letter  to  Dr.  Field,"  page  44. 


48  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"Has  he  taken  a  peep  into  the  mirror  of  his  own  soul,  recoiled 
in  horror,  and  taken  vengeance  against  his  Maker? 

"Did  he  include  himself  in  this  sentence:*  'Most  men  are 
provincial,  narrow,  one-sided,  only  partially  developed' ?  Is  the 
'little  clearing'  around  his  brain  just  large  enough  to  practice 
law  in,  and  the  remainder  of  the  farm  a  jungle  of  snakes  and 
wild  beasts?  Do  the  poisonous  serpents  of  hatred  lie  coiled  in 
the  brambles,  sending  out  a  chorus  of  hisses  with  the  wild  beasts 
of  sophistry? 

"In  all  candor  now,  which  causes  his  following,  his  logic  or 
his  rhetoric? 

"Axiom  fourth.*  'Neither  in  the  interest  of  truth,  nor  for 
the  benefit  of  man,  is  it  necessary  to  assert  what  we  do  not 
know.' 

"How  about  axiom  second  ?  Does  he  know-  it  was  right  for  the 
thumb-screw  to  be?  Does  he  know  it  was  right  for  Guiteau  to 
kill  Garfield?  Does  he  not  see  that  reason,  wherever  it  sits 
'croA\T]ed  monarch'  of  his  brain,  will  compel  that  man  to  place 
the  mistakes,  the  errors,  the  world  of  tears  and  regrets  in  which 
poor,  frail  humanity  is  engulfed  on  the  side  of  right  ?  Does  he 
not  see  that  he  has  done  away  with  all  wrong — that  he  has  made 
a  millennium  on  earth,  or  is  he  in  accord  with  this  philosopher? 

Whatever  is,  is  right,  says  Pope — 

So  said  a  sturdy  thief; 
But  when  his  fate  required  a  rope. 

He  varied  his  belief. 

"What!  will  not  now  your  rule  hold  good?" 

The  executioner  cried : 
"Good  rules,"  he  said,  "are  understood 

By  being  well  applied." 

"I  would  like  to  know  if  Colonel  Ingersoll  considers  himself 
a  civilized  man.  Does  reason  sit  crowned  monarch  of  his  brain  ? 
Are  his  passions  his  servants  ?  Is  he  very  certain  that  Jehovah 
is  a  myth?  Is  he  positive  that  axiom  second  is  a  truth?  Fi- 
nally, and  lastly  (as  the  old-time  preacher  would  say),  why  is  it 
that  he  hates  the  God  of  Moses  with  such  malignant  hatred? 
Why  is  it  that  he  expresses  regret  at  the  poverty  of  language — 

*"Letter  to  Dr.  Field,"  page  46. 


"Uncommonip  Powerful  in  His  Line."      49 

at  its  paucity  of  objurgatory  expressions,  of  its  deficiency  in 
vocabulary  to  furnish  words  to  express  his  loathing  of  this  'mon- 
ster'— this  'Almighty  Friend'  of  Dr.  Field? 

"Would  not  the  old  Hindoo  prayer,  with  one  word  added,  be 
a  suitable  prayer  for  many  of  us? 

"'Have  mercy,  God,  upon'  (me)  'the  vicious;  thou  hast 
already  had  mercy  upon  the  just  by  making  them  just.' 

"Crimination  and  recrimination  in  any  discussion  are  always 
oifensive  to  polite  ears,  but  the  doctrine  of  nonresistance,  in 
the  history  of  its  evolution,  and  its  struggle  for  existence,  has 
never  yet  reached  the  highest  pinnacle  either  of  man's  heart  or 
head;  so,  to  elucidate  facts,  strong  language  is  at  times  indis- 
pensable. 

"Is  not  the  fact  of  Colonel  Ingersoll's  denying  God  positive 
evidence  that  he  has  laid  aside  his  reason  ?  Are  not  these  words, 
taken  from  his  reply  to  Mr.  Black,  negative  evidence  of  the 
same  thing? 

"  ']^ever  for  an  instant  did  I  suppose  that  any  respectable 
American  citizen  could  be  found  willing  at  this  day  to  defend 
the  institution  of  slavery.' 

"Take  axioms  first  and  second  in  connection  with  this  slavery 
question,  and  by  syllogistic  reasoning  see  if  Isaac  Taylor  missed 
it  much  when  he  said : 

"  'The  infatuations  of  the  sensual  and  frivolous  part  of  man- 
kind are  amazing;  but  the  infatuations  of  the  learned  and 
sophistical  are  incomparably  more  so.' 

"If  slavery  exist-ed  by  a  law  of  necessity,  and  Colonel  Inger- 
soll  opposed  it,  and  still  denounces  it  as  a  crime,  whether  it 
exists  in  'world,  star,  heaven  or  hell' ;  and  by  his  ov^i  testimony 
it  can  be  proved  by  the  best  and  most  accurate  mode  of  reason- 
ing known  to  man — ^by  reasoning  that  is  equivalent  to  a  math- 
ematical demonstration — that  it  had  the  right  to  he;  then,  I 
say.  Colonel  Ingersoll  ought  to  recant,  and  ask  pardon  of  his 
fellowmen  for  practicing  this  unwarrantable  imposition  upon 
them  for  so  many  years. 

"If  he  is  an  honest  man,  he  will  do  it. 

"These  are  his  own  words :  'That  which  happens  must  hap- 
pen.' 'That  which  must  be  has  the  right  to  be.'  These  sen- 
tences are  disconnected  from  all  others.  They  may  be  found 
4 


50  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

in  the  November  number  of  this  Review  (holding  up  the 
book) — one  on  page  499,  third  and  fourth  lines  from  the  bottom, 
and  the  other  on  page  476,  second  line  from  the  bottom. 

"They  admit  of  no  interpretation.  They  mean  just  what 
they  say.  They  are  aphorisms  which  he  has  set  up  for  the 
guidance  of  mankind.  They  include  every  event,  every  occur- 
rence, evei*y  incident,  every  phenomenon,  which  have  taken 
place  since  the  world  began ;  and,  what  is  worse,  they  make 
right  of  it  all.  They  do  away  with  all  wrong.  They  abolish 
evil,  and  make  God  a  liar.  They  stultify  the  human  intellect, 
and  make  the  thumbscrew  one  of  the  mainsprings  of  equity. 
They  place  human  slavery  and  human  freedom  in  the  scales  of 
justice  and  make  the  beam  poise.  They  make  Anubis  a  justi- 
fied god  in  the  Temple  of  Isis,  and  the  debauchment  of  the 
chaste  Paulina  a  virtue.  They  make  wars,  pestilence,  famine, 
widows  and  orphans,  beggary,  and  'man's  inhumanity  to  man,' 
'glad  tidings  of  great  joy.' 

"They  make  a  boomerang  of  these  words : 

"  'Slavery  includes  all  other  crimes.  It  is  the  joint  product  of 
the  kidnapper,  pirate,  thief,  murderer,  and  hypocrite.  It  de- 
grades labor  and  cornipts  leisure.  To  lacerate  the  naked  back, 
to  sell  wives,  to  steal  babes,  to  breed  bloodhounds,  to  debauch 
your  o\^m  soul — this  is  slavery.  This  is  what  Jehovah  "author- 
ized in  Judea."  This  is  what  Mr.  Black  believes  in  still.'* 
And,  mirahile  dictu,  this  is  what  Colonel  Ingersoll  says  had  a 
ngkt  to  he.  O  Consistency,  thou  art  indeed  a  jewel,  but  im- 
bedded still  in  the  head  of  a  toad ! 

"Suppose  that  Colonel  Ingersoll  should  say,  'A  straight  line 
is  not  the  shortest  distance  between  tvv^o  points — a  crooked  line 
or  a  curved  one  is  shorter  than  a  straight  line' ;  and  suppose 
he  should  then  call  to  his  assistance  all  the  adjectives  in  the 
English  language,  and  import  ail  the  slang  phrases  and  objur- 
gations of  all  the  savage  dialects  on  the  globe,  and  hurl  them 
against  the  originators  of  the  mathematical  sciences;  and  then 
suppose  that  he  should  go  over  to  the  great  fish  market  of  Lon- 
don, and  gather  up  all  the  billingsgate  of  that  Alsatian  den, 
and  electroplate  and  gild  it,  and  sugar-coat  it,  and  try  to  force 
it  do-wn  the  throats  of  the  American  people — do  you  suppose 


*"Reply  to  Mr.  Black,"  page  485. 


"Uncommonly  Powerful  in  His  Line."      51 

tliey  would  swallow  it?  And  do  you  suppose  tliat  his  frantic 
appeals  would  disturb  the  equipoise  of  the  great  principles  of 
mathematics  ? 

"With  modest  diffidence  we  would  suggest  that  he  study  the 
principles  of  logic  more,  and  Roget's  Thesaurus  less. 

"Axiom  fifth.  'Everything  is  right  that  tends  to  the  happi- 
ness of  mankind,  and  everything  is  wrong  that  increases  the 
sum  of  human  misery.'* 

"The  Colonel  answers  questions  readily  that  the  wisest  and 
best  have  hesitated  over.  Pilate  on  one  occasion  asked  a  Divine 
person,  'What  is  truth?'  He  received  no  answer,  unless  the 
rebiike  of  silence  was  an  answer. 

"The  above  answer  to  the  questions,  'What  is  right,  and  what 
is  wrong?'  would  seem  plausible,  and  would  raise  no  objection 
in  the  mind  of  the  average  man ;  neither  would  an  affirmative 
answer  to  the  question,  'Is  the  Golden  Rule  perfect?'  surprise 
the  majority  of  people. 

"Remember  that  no  assertion  can  be  the  whole  truth  and 
nothing  but  the  truth,  if  a  single  fact  in  the  whole  universe 
impinges  upon  that  assertion.  Colonel  Ingersoll  himself  says: 
'There  is  a  continual  effort  in  the  mind  of  man  to  find  the  har- 
mony that  he  knows  must  exist  between  all  known  facts.'-j-  Such 
a  picture  as  this  has  been  seen  in  a  civilized  household  in  mod- 
ern times : 

"A  woman  of  moderate  mental  endowments  has  been  joined 
in  the  holy  bonds  of  mati'imony  (one  of  Colonel  Ingersoll's 
shrines  of  worship)  to  a  man  of  a  low  order  of  intelligence, 
much  lower  than  hers;  yet  he  is  kind,  humane,  loving.  To  the 
extent  of  his  ability  he  provides  for  his  family.  He  loves  his 
wife  and  children,  and  his  neighbors  say  of  him,  'He  is  a  clever 
fellow,  but  he  has  very  little  sense.'  His  journey  through  life 
is  beset  with  difficulties  which  require  brains  to  combat  them. 
Being  deficient  in  this  respect,  the  difficulties  surround  and 
close  in  upon  him.  He  becomes  involved  financially,  and  his 
children  grow  up  a  burden,  because  of  their  mental  insufficiency. 
His  property  is  under  mortgage;  but  his  friends  are  staunch, 
and  wait  patiently,  because  he  is  honest,  because  he  is  indus- 
trious, because  he  is  good.     His   family  is   large.     His   half- 


*"Divided  Household  of  Faith."       t"Reply  to  Mr.  Black,"  page  505. 


52  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

wittecl  children  are  stout  and  strong.  They  have  good  appe- 
tites. They  work  imder  their  father's  directions.  They  labor 
hard  and  willingly. 

"They  are  good  beasts  of  burden.  But  the  result  of  all  their 
toil,  all  their  sweat,  all  their  pains  is  insufficient  to  raise  the 
mortgage,  to  cancel  the  debt,  to  provide  for  their  daily  wants. 
The  pinch  of  poverty  is  being  felt  in  that  family.  The  father's 
brow  is  clouded,  and  he  is  beginning  to  doubt  the  justice  of  God. 
The  mother's  hands  are  horny  with  toil,  and  her  face  haggard 
with  anxiety.  The  children,  with  one  exception,  are  unable  to 
appreciate  the  situation.  They  are  becoming  dissatisfied  and 
threaten  to  leave.  They  can  see  no  good  in  unremitting  and 
unremunerative  labor.  Despair  is  hovering  over  that  house- 
hold, and,  but  for  an  episode  of  previous  years,  would  sit  down 
with  that  family  and  stay. 

"When  the  mother  was  younger,  and  her  animal  spirits 
higher,  she  formed  the  acquaintance  of  a  man  whose  intellect 
was  keen,  whose  eye  was  bright,  and  whose  vivacity  of  manner 
was  captivating.  In  an  evil  moment  a  liaison  was  formed,  and 
her  exceptional  child  came  into  the  world  with  a  keen  eye,  a 
bright  intellect,  and  a  handsome  face. 

"  'Nature's  unbounded  sou,  lie  stands  alone, 
His  heart  unbiased,  and  his  mind  his  own. 
No  sickly  fruit  of  faint  compliance  he; 
He !  stamped  in  nature's  mint  with  ecstasy ! 
He  lives  to  build,  not  boast,  a  generous  race; 
No  tenth  transmitter  of  a  foolish  face.' 

"This  boy  takes  in  the  situation.  As  mind  has  power  over 
matter,  he  arranges  with  his  father  and  his  brothers.  Suc- 
cess crowns  his  efforts,  and  the  household  is  blessed.  His 
mother's  face  puts  on  a  smile,  and  she  is  the  only  one  in  the 
wide  world  who  knows  why. 

"Was  her  faux  jms  a  right  action  because  good  resulted 
from  it? 

"Here  is  another  picture  that  may  be  seen  constantly  on  the 
easel  the  world  over : 

"A  young  woman  of  social  standing,  education,  morality,  and 
beauty  enters  the  same  holy  bonds  of  wedlock  with  her  equal  in 


"Uncommonli^  Powerful  in  His  Line.''      53 

all  respects.  The  marriage-bells  peal  with  joy,  and  luanj 
friends  sniilo  and  congratulate.  This  occasion  is  one  of  pride, 
and  the  whole  Avorld  recognizes  it  as  being  legal  and  correct. 
The  consequence  of  this  faultless  step  is  extra-uterine  concep- 
tion.    Suffering  and  death  follow, 

"  'The  sum  of  human  misery  is  increased.  What  can  reason 
say  to  axiom  fifth? 

"  'Neither  in  the  interest  of  truth,  nor  for  the  benefit  of  man, 
is  it  necessary  to  assert  what  we  do  not  know.'* 

''Is  Colonel  Ingersoll  w^orking  in  the  interest  of  truth?  Is 
ho  working  for  the  benefit  of  man?  Does  he  assert  only  what 
he  knows  ?  Are  his  conclusions  logical  deductions  from  his  own 
axioms?  Is  this  the  truth,  the  Avhole  tiiith,  and  nothing  but 
the  truth?     This,  'That  which  must  be  has  the  right  to  be.' 

"Is  it  for  the  benefit  of  man  that  he  says  this :  'If  in  this 
world  there  is  a  figtire  of  perfect  purity,  it  is  a  mother  holding 
in  her  thrilled  and  happy  arms  her  child' ?-|-  Does  he  assert 
only  what  he  knows  when  he  says  this:  'An  infinite  Grod  has  no 
excuse  for  leaving  his  children  in  doubt  and  darkness'? J  In 
another  place,  he  says:  'I  have  had  no  experience  with  gods.' 

"How  can  a  man  say  what  anybody  or  anything  ought  or 
ought  not  to  do  when  he  has  had  no  experience  with  the  person, 
thing,  or  circumstance? 

"There  is  one  sentence  in  Colonel  Ingersoll's  reply  to  Mr. 
Black,  the  drollery  of  which  under  all  circumstances  excites  my 
risibles.  I  can't  look  at  that  sentence  without  laughter,  and  I 
can't  think  about  it  without  a  smile.     It  is  this : 

"  'Will  Mr.  Black  have  the  kindness  to  state  a  few  of  his 
objections  to  the  devil?' 

"Now,  will  Colonel  Ingersoll  have  the  kindness  to  state  his 
opinion  of  the  'perfect  purity'  of  the  figure  of  a  mother  holding 
in  her  arms  her  illegitimate  child? 

"To  pervert  truth,  to  sophisticate  nature,  philosophy,  or  the 
understanding,  to  bend  the  mighty  energies  of  the  human  intel- 
lect under  a  load  of  such  ponderous  magnitude  as  the  doctrine 
of  absolute  atheism,  entails  a  war  in  which  the  divine  gift  of 


♦"Letter  to  Dr.  Field,"  page  46.       f'Reply  to  Mr.  Black,"  page  487. 
f'Letter  to  Dr.  Field,"  page  40. 


54  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

speech  is  made  the  battering-ram  of  justice,  and  the  confusion 
of  sophistical  reasoning  is  employed  to  entrap  innocence  and 
prostitute  virtue. 

"Colonel  Ingersoll  must  have  got  a  glimpse  of  his  own,  Avhen 
he  said:  'I  admit  that  reason  is  a  small  and  feeble  flame,  a  flick- 
ering torch  by  stumblers  carried  in  the  starless  night.'*  Or  he 
m.ay  be  under  the  influence  of  that  chameleon  sprite  'Supersti- 
tion,' as  it  leads  in  the  van  of  hmnan  darkness,  charming  the 
eye  with  its  cymophanous  light,  and  forming  a  mirage  of  iri- 
descent halos  around  the  crown  of  human  thought. 

"If  he  will  analyze  his  own  sayings  in  the  light  of  pure 
reason,  if  he  will  place  his  philosophy  in  the  scales  of  justice 
and  test  its  specific  gravity  with  that  of  the  superstition  he 
so  mercilessly  condemns,  he  may  find  that  they  both  tip  the 
beam  at  zero ;  that  opiniatry,  not  reason,  is  the  'flickering  torch 
by  stumblers  carried  in  the  starless  night.' 

"When  a  system  of  philosophy  is  open  to  so  many  adverse 
criticisms ;  when  the  glare  of  analysis  casts  a  dark  shade  over 
statements  purporting  to  be  truth;  and  when  a  code  of  ethics 
reveals  error  under  the  sharp  scalpel  of  reason,  may  Ave  not 
doubt  the  infallibility  of  a  theology  based  upon  denial,  and 
whose  only  support  is  ridicule? 

"It  has  been  said  that  every  man  makes  his  own  god. 

"Colonel  Ingersoll  hates  Jehovah  because  Jehovah  tolerates 
slavery. 

"Can  hatred  alter  a  fact?  He  hates  the  rheumatism,  but  can 
he  convince  the  sufl"erers  from  that  disease  that  rheumatism  is 
a  myth  because  he  hates  it?  Rheumatism  can  be  positively 
known  to  the  sufi"erers  only.  If  Colonel  Ingersoll  never  had 
the  rheumatism,  hoAv  does  he  knoAV  such  a  disease  exists?  Is 
he  not  obliged  to  believe  it  from  the  testimony  of  others? 

"Perhaps  he  never  had  the  toothache.  Can  he  tell  when  an- 
other man  has  it?  Or,  doesn't  he  believe  in  toothache  because 
he  has  had  no  experience  with  it?  He  may  say  that  it  stands 
to  reason,  that  a  decayed  tooth  should  ache,  or  that  an  inflamed 
joint  should  pain.  Very  well,  how  about  the  pains  of  partu- 
rition?    He  assuredly  has  had  no  experience  in  that  line. 

"Is  pregnancy  a  disease  and  parturition  a  result  of  violated 


♦"Divided  Hoiisphold  of  Faith.' 


"Uncommonly  Powerful  in  His  Line."      55 

law?  Are  the  throes  of  labor  sanitary,  pleasureful  or  in  any 
way  for  the  good  of  the  woman?  Are  they  one  of  the  cons&- 
quences  of  a  bad  action?  He  says,  'Actions  are  good  or  bad 
according  to  their  consequences.'  If  he  says  there  is  nothing 
bad  in  the  pains  of  parturition,  I  will  confront  his  testimony 
by  the  testimony  of  every  mother  in  the  land.  Will  he  deny 
the  existence  of  these  pains  because  he  has  had  no  experience 
with  them  ? 

"In  his  reply  to  Dr.  Field,  he  says,  'I  have  had  no  experience 
with  gods ;  there  can  be  no  evidence  to  my  mind  of  the  existence 
of  such  a  being.'  ISTow,  as  Colonel  Ingersoll  has  had  no  expe- 
rience with  the  pains  of  childbirth,  I  would  like  to  know  if 
there  can  be  any  evidence  to  his  mind  of  the  existence  of  such 
pains,  save  the  hare  statement  of  the  woman. 

"Exclude  the  'dark  continent  of  motive  and  desire,'  and  let 
the  'poor  sovereign'  of  'that  wondrous  world  with  one  inhab- 
itant' say  whether  there  can  be  any  more  evidence  to  his  mind 
of  the  existence  of  these  pains  tban  there  can  be  of  the  existence 
of  an  infinite  being.  We  have  the  bare  statement  of  the  woman 
for  the  pains,  and  nothing  else.  We  have  the  statements  of 
both  men  and  women  for  the  existence  of  God.  The  amount 
of  positive  evidence  is  much  greater  for  the  existence  of  God 
than  for  the  existence  of  labor  pains,  and,  in  addition  to  the 
positive,  we  have  both  negative  and  rationalistic  evidence. 

"The  strongest  negative  evidence  for  the  existence  of  God  is, 
that  no  other  nor  all  other  theories  will  account  for  the  facts 
of  the  universe. 

"Admitting  God  will  account  for  everything. 

"The  rationalistic  evidence  for  the  existence  of  God  is  the 
stepping  up  to  him  by  the  ladder  of  the  human  mind. 

"l^ow,  unless  a  man  is  lost  in  the  'treacherous  sands  and 
dangerous  shores'  of  this  'dark  continent  of  motive  and  desire,' 
he  must  see  that  it  is  no  harder  to  believe  in  God  than  it  is  to 
believe  in  the  rotundity  of  the  earth,  or  the  existence  of  China. 

"  'I  have  had  no  experience  with  gods,'  therefore  there  is  no 
God. 

"Is  this  syllogistic  reasoning?  Is  Colonel  Ingersoll  dishonest, 
or  is  he  unwise?  He  sets  up  a  great  deal  of  negative  evidence 
to  prove  that  he  is  not  dishonest. 


56  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"Error  is  ever  the  result  of  ignorance  or  dishonesty.  It 
never  comes  from  any  other  source. 

"If  he  is  dishonest,  then  the  contest  is  only  between  ignorance 
and  right.  A  good  part  of  the  better  world  says  he  is  not  right. 
According  to  his  o'ttT.i  definition  of  right  and  wrong,  he  is  either 
wrong  or  inconsistent.  I  think  he  himself  will  agree  that  in- 
consistency cannot  be  right.  Then  if  inconsistency  cannot  be 
right,  the  Colonel  must  be  wrong.  Being  wrong  and  being 
honest  at  the  same  time,  he  must  admit  that  he  is  ignorant. 

"Being  ignorant,  he  ought  not  to  set  himself  up  for  a  teacher. 
If  he  persists  in  teaching,  then  he  must  deny  that  he  is  wrong 
or  he  must  deny  that  he  is  honest.  Being  honest,  however, 
there  is  nothing  left  but  to  say  he  is  wrong;  and  being  wrong, 
he  is  not  fit  to  teach.  Being  unfit  to  teach,  he  ought  to  quit. 
This  is  a  test  of  his  honesty.  Will  he  quit,  or  will  he  persist  in 
his  error,  or  will  he  endeavor  to  learn  the  truth? 

"He  says,*  'We  should  do  all  within  our  power  to  inform,  to 
educate,  and  to  benefit  our  fellowmen.'  Is  he  doing  it?  If 
so,  by  what  means?  Are  his  axioms  a  measure  of  his  power? 
Where  does  his  strength  lie? 

"Colonel  Ingersoll  has  certainly  missed  his  calling.  He 
ought  to  have  been  a  preacher.  That  profession  would  have 
enabled  him  to  expound  his  sojihistry,  to  promulgate  his  max- 
ims and  contradictions  to  his  heart's  content,  without  offense. 
And  he  could  in  pious  humility  have  prayed  with  'Holy  Willie' : 

"  'I  bless  and  praise  thy  matchless  might. 
When  thousands  thou  hast  left  in  night. 
That  I  am  here  afore  thy  sight 

For  gifts  and  grace, 
A  burnin'  and  a  shinin"  light 

To  a'  this  place.' 

"He  reasons  after  the  manner  of  the  revivalist.  He  occupies 
a  place  in  the  literaiy  and  philosophical  world  similar  to  Jay 
Gould's  position  in  the  financial  world.  He  is  neither  Jew  nor 
Gentile.  He  is  the  special  phenomenon  of  the  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury.    He  has  pitted  himself  single-handed  against  the  states- 


*"Divided  Household  of  Faith." 


''Uncommonly  Powerful  in  His  Line."      57 

mau,  the  theologian,  and  the  jurist.  In  many  cases  lie  has  been 
the  victor.  He  seeks  notoriety  as  Gould  seeks  money — it  mat- 
ters little  how  he  gets  it. 

"He  has  studied  human  nature  and  learned  its  weaknesses. 

"While  he  holds  up  reason  as  the  ultima  thule  of  all  that  is 
desirable,  he  tempers  his  words  to  the  capacity  of  the  average 
man — well  knowing  that  the  mote  which  blinds  his  own  eye  has 
a  magnified  image  in  the  eyes  of  the  great  majority  of  his 
fellows. 

"He  has  learned  the  unfortunate  fact,  that  it  is  not  so  much 
ivhat  a  man  says,  but  nearly  all  depends  upon  how  he  says  it. 

"Reason,  that  mighty  fetich  of  his  idolatrous  homage,  is  to 
him  and  his  followers  a  flamboyant  light,  encircled  with  halos 
and  spectral  shadows — delusive  in  itself,  and,  siren-like,  leading 
its  votaries  on  to  a  willing  death. 

"Mr.  Ingersoll  should  stop  and  think.  The  people  should 
stop  and  think,  before  they  indorse  him. 

"  'Prove  all  things ;  hold  fast  that  which  is  good,'  but  don't 
say,  'Everything  is  right  that  tends  to  the  happiness  of  man- 
kind, and  everything  is  wrong  that  increases  the  sum  of  human 
misery.'  And  don't  say,  'That  which  must  be  has  the  right  to 
be.'  And  don't  say,  'Igmorance  and  credulity  sustain  the  rela- 
tion of  cause  and  effect.'  And  don't  say,  'Acts  are  good  or  bad 
according  to  their  consequences,  and  not  according  to  the  in- 
tentions of  the  actors.'  And,  above  all  things,  don't  say,  'In 
the  nature  of  things  there  can  be  no  evidence  of  the  existence 
of  an  infinite  being.'  " 

The  train  stopped  and  the  lecturer  got  up  to  leave.  He  was 
billed  to  this  town  for  his  "celebrated  lecture,"  and  a  large  con- 
course of  people  with  a  brass  band  had  come  to  the  depot  to 
welcome  him. 

He  had  listened  with  great  attention  to  the  long  discourse  of 
the  old  teacher,  and  many  times  he  had  strongly  felt  the  impulse 
to  internipt,  but  being  a  good  listener  as  well  as  a  good  talker, 
he  had  sat  with  the  others,  mute  and  patient. 

His  cynical  eye  beamed  with  a  sardonic  twinkle  as  he  reached 
out  his  hand  to  bid  the  old  gentleman  goodbye,  and  he  could 
not  refrain  from  asking  a  few  personal  questions  in  regard  to 
the  old  man's  life  history. 


58  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

''My  good  friend,"  lie  said,  "I  am  going  to  leave  you  liere^ 
and  wkile  I  have  been  entertained  in  a  variety  of  ways  with 
your  companionship,  I  am  curious  to  know  if  you  are  a  man 
of  family." 

"No,"  answered  the  old  man,  "I  have  never  been  married." 
"Have  you  made  a  fortune  by  your  profession  of  teaching?" 
"I  have  never  had  time  to  think  about  making  money." 
"Without  family,  a  man  of  your  age  must  be  somewhat  alone 
in  the  world." 

"A  man  cannot  be  very  much  alone  in  the  world  who  has 
friends  at  home,  and  books  wherever  he  goes." 

"Can  friends  and  books  satisfy  the  cravings  of  the  hixman 
heart?  Is  ambition  stayed  by  a  taste  of  others'  glory?  Is  it 
nothing  to  be  known — to  be  heralded  on  the  wings  of  the  wind — 
to  come  in  contact  with  the  great  and  the  learned? 

"You  contend  for  principles,  while  the  world  neither  under- 
stands nor  appreciates  you.  The  majority  of  men  love  to  be 
cheated,  and  will  pay  handsomely  for  the  service.  Poverty  is 
the  Muses'  patrimony.  Saturn  and  Mercury,  the  patrons  of 
learning,  are  both  dry  planets. 

"  'And  to  this  day  is  every  scholar  poor ; 

Gross  gold  from  them  rims  headlong  to  the  boor.' 

"Good-bye,"  and,  shaking  the  old  man's  hand,  he  stepped  out 
of  the  car. 

"Do  you  know  that  man  ?"  asked  a  clerical-looking  gentleman 
on  the  opposite  seat. 

"No." 

"That  is  Colonel  Ingersoll." 


BOOK   II. 


PREFACE  TO   BOOK   II. 

Voltaire  said,  ''Books  are  made  from  books."  Tiiis  is  true 
to  some  extent  with,  the  present  volume,  but  I  flatter  myself  that 
it  contains  some  ideas  not  found  in  other  books.  While  I  have 
culled  from  others,  often  quoting  the  exact  language  where  it 
expressed  the  thought  better  than  I  could — plagiarized,  if  you 
will — I  make  no  apology  for  the  alicujus  scripta  furtum. 

My  endeavor  has  been  to  write  something  to  set  men  a-think- 
ing.  Logic  is  hard,  and  philosophy  dry  unless  interspersed  with 
a  certain  degree  of  variety  and  abruptness. 

To  this  end  I  have  endeavored  to  weave  in  a  bit  of  romance 
without  writing  a  novel.  The  characters  I  have  introduced  are 
two  men  of  opposite  modes  of  thought.  One  is  a  materialist, 
the  other  a  spiritualist ;  one  a  free-thinker,  the  other  a  believer ; 
one  an  infidel,  the  other  a  Christian.  I  have  given  free-rein  to 
the  thoughts  of  each  one,  and  if  the  religious  controversy  is  un- 
satisfactory to  any  Christian  reader,  the  fault  is  in  the  substance 
and  not  in  its  application. 

In  the  answers  to  the  material  philosophy,  I  have  culled  from 
the  best  books  on  Theology,  and  had  the  aid  of  some  of  the 
ripest  scholars  in  the  land.  Among  those  to  whom  I  would  ex- 
press gratitude  and  thanks  are  Rev.  Dr.  Borden  P.  Bowne  of 
Boston,  Rev.  Dr.  M.  W.  Prince  of  Dickinson  College,  Carlisle, 
Pa.,  and  W.  A.  Candler,  Bishop  of  the  Southern  Methodist 
Church.  The  local  clergy  of  every  denomination  have  been  uni- 
formly kind  in  suggestions  and  hints  for  aids  to  the  faith. 

I  have  excluded  the  Bible  from  either  side  as  authority ; 
allowing  both  to  quote,  where  the  quotation  is  apt. 

Dogma  has  been  excluded.  The  basis  of  the  book  is  reason 
and  experience. 

The  schoolmaster  is  a  real  character  who  figured  as  a  local 
celebrity  for  many  years  in  Eastern  Carolina.  Most  of  the 
oddities  attributed  to  him  were  real  traits,  and  with  a  few  em- 
bellishments, his  true  character  is  portrayed  here.  The  quota- 
tion. Homo  multarum  litterarum  never  fitted  a  man  better. 

The  ""Wandering  Jew"  is  made  up,  partly  from  legend,  and 
partly  from  fancy.    He  is  a  Christian  pure  and  simple. 


The  Journeg  Home.  63 


BOOK  II. 
CHAPTER  I. 

THE  JOURNEY  HOME. 

After  the  lecturer  left  the  car,  and  Mr.  Eliot  learned  that  he 
had  been  talking,  all  the  while,  to  Colonel  Ingersoll,  a  feeling  of 
dismay  took  possession  of  his  mind  as  a  first  reaction  from  ex- 
citing debate;  but  later,  a  sense  of  quiet  satisfaction  ensued  at 
having  unwittingly  told  some  pertinent  truths  to  the  right  man. 
While  he  had  so  disciplined  his  mind  as  to  bring  most  of  his 
faculties  into  subjection  to  his  will,  yet,  at  times,  he  found  pleas- 
ure in  yielding  to  the  play  of  fancy.  In  solitude,  especially 
after  such  a  mental  strain  as  he  had  just  undergone,  he  would 
court  the  slavery  of  imagination,  indulge  the  power  of  fiction, 
and  send  the  fancy  out  upon  the  wing  to  cull  from  all  imagina- 
ble conditions  that  which  for  the  present  moment  he  should 
most  desire.  In  this  frame  of  mind  he  passed  the  rest  of  his 
journey,  being  neither  disposed  to  talk  nor  to  read ;  musing  over 
the  problem  of  life,  contrasting  the  good  with  the  evil  in  the 
world,  wondering  at  the  blindness  of  man,  yet,  amazed  at  his 
intellectual  attainments ;  sympathizing  with  the  cheerless  gloouj 
of  the  pessimist,  and  rejoicing  in  the  buoyant  courage  of  the 
optimist,  his  reveries  ran  in  a  never-ending  chase,  with  thought 
pursuing  thought,  and  vision  succeeding  vision  as  the  monoto- 
nous roar  of  the  train  lulled  the  senses  and  disposed  the  mind  to 
quietude  and  calm. 

The  centers  of  thought  suffered  their  powers  of  analysis  to 
give  way  to  the  pleasing  fancies  of  revery,  and  the  old  man's 
eyelids  drooped  as  his  head  reclined  to  the  corner  of  his  seat. 
Half  sleej^ing  and  half  waking,  the  dynamical  powers  of  an 
active  brain  ran  riot  over  scenes  of  the  past,  and  conjured  up 
visions  of  the  future  greatness  of  man. 

Memory,  that  chaste  goddess  of  the  righteous  and  fell  demon 
of  the  reprobate,  pursued  the  phantoms  of  bygone  days,  evoked 
the  shades  of  dead  heroes;  and,  unlocking  the  ponderous  doors 
of  the  great  mausoleum  of  ancient  philosophy,  spread  a  feast 


64  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

for  tlie  imagination  unparalleled  in  its  richness  and  beauty; 
and,  barring  the  shapeless  scenes  of  carnage,  of  blood,  of  murder 
and  hypocrisy,  the  mad  strife  for  gain,  and  the  callous  hatred 
of  man  toward  man,  would  gild  the  book  of  life  and  leave  the 
Stygian  pool  unstirred  by  the  dip  of  a  single  wailing  soul.  His 
fidelity  to  the  human  intellect  could  neither  be  shaken  by  fraud 
nor  weakened  by  deception.  The  power  of  thought  to  him  was 
the  light  which  shineth  in  the  darkness,  and  his  highest  concep- 
tion of  Deity  was  a  being  of  boundless  knowledge.  To  know 
had  been  his  lifelong  labor — to  know  truth — to  know  error,  and 
to  be  able  to  distinguish  between  the  two.  He  believed  with  a 
childlike  faith  that  man  could  know  the  truth,  that  error  was 
an  evil  only  as  it  is  misunderstood,  and  that  ignorance  had  been 
the  cause  of  all  mischief. 

Cause  and  effect,  he  regarded  as  inseparably  linked  from  eter- 
nity— what  has  been  was  the  result  of  sheer  necessity.  He  even 
went  so  far  as  to  subscribe  to  the  paradoxical  creed  which  has 
been  caricatured  by  the  opponents  of  a  certain  school  of  Reli- 
gionists, as,  "What  is  to  be,  will  be.  if  it  never  is." 

Evil  he  regarded  as  necessary,  a  contrast  which  makes  possible 
the  good.  A  world  without  evil  would  be  an  unfit  habitation 
for  man.  The  Omniscient  and  Omnipotent  Power  which  cre- 
ated the  world  and  man,  knew  that  evil  was  a  necessity,  knew 
that  light  could  not  exist  Avithout  darkness,  that  peace  would  be 
an  impossibility  without  discord,  and,  hence,  it  is  written, 

"I  form  the  light  and  create  darkness ;  I  make  peace  and  create 
evil.     I,  the  Lord,  do  all  these  things." 

The  labor  of  cogitation  is  too  violent  to  last  long,  and  the 
reveries  of  fancy  will  finally  end  in  slumber.  Then  it  is  that 
the  indefinable  state  we  call  dreaming  takes  possession  of  the 
mind  and  we  live  as  it  were  in  another  world.  It  is  said  by 
those  who  have  paid  most  attention  to  the  subject,  that  we  dream 
only  of  those  things  Avhich  in  the  past  have  made  some  impres- 
sion on  the  mind ;  that  to  dream  of  things  we  never  thought  of 
is  impossible,  and  the  fact  of  our  not  remembering  them  is  no 
evidence  of  the  impression  never  having  been  made;  that  the 
mind  registers  every  thought,  every  imprint  received,  and  that 
this  register  is  indestructible,  inefl^aceable  and  eternal. 


The  Journei^  Home.  65 

The  old  man  dreamed  as  he  reclined  upon  his  seat  and  slept. 
He  dreamed  of  his  childhood,  his  youth  and  his  manhood.  He 
dreamed  of  his  mother  long  since  dead.  He  dreamed  of  his 
school-days  when  his  mind  first  began  to  take  fitful  glances  at 
the  tree  of  knowledge,  when  he  saw  the  golden  fruit  dangling 
far  beyond  his  reach.  The  relish  with  which  he  imbibed  his 
first  draught  of  knowledge  returned  in  his  slumber,  and  a  smile 
played  upon  his  features  like  the  smile  of  an  innocent  babe. 
Visions  as  unreal  and  fantastic  as  the  chaos  of  thought  passed 
before  his  mental  sight  and  vanished,  one  after  another,  like 
dissolving  views.  The  monotonous  roar  of  the  train,  the 
cramped  position  and  half  rest  of  the  weary  traveler  contrib- 
uted to  this  mental  phantasmagoria.  He  dreamed  of  the 
mountain  he  had  climbed  with  weary  steps  to  get  only  a  glimpse 
of  the  truth.  He  saw  error  on  every  side  of  his  path,  and  the 
yawning  chasm  of  falsehood  feasting  with  hungry  eye  and  glut- 
tonous maw  upon  the  fairest  of  mankind.  A  panoramic  view 
of  the  intellectual  development  of  the  human  race  from  the 
earliest  dawn  of  history  to  the  present  time,  ran  a  steeple-chase 
before  his  drowsy  eyes,  and  he  saw  man  in  the  savage  state 
modelling  for  himself  a  God,  to  whom  he  transferred  concep- 
tions of  himself,  and  worshiped  in  the  humility  of  self-love, 
and  the  fear  of  self-immolation.  He  saw  the  priesthood  in  the 
long  vista  of  the  past,  either  from  superstitious  honesty,  or 
knavery,  or  both  mixed,  standing  like  an  incubus  in  the  way  of 
human  progress.  He  saw  the  dumb  idols  of  Paganism  sitting  in 
eternal  silence  upon  the  throne  of  ignorance  and  fear.  And 
then  the  beautiful  image  of  a  God-man  came  into  view,  about 
whose  countenance  a  halo  of  glory  shone  in  resplendent  hues  of 
love,  and  peace,  and  good-will  toward  men. 

The  scene  quickly  changed,  and  a  fountain  of  pure,  limpid, 
sparkling  water  gushed  forth  from  a  rock,  and  meandered  slowly 
amongst  men,  slaking  the  thirst  of  the  weary,  and  washing  the 
soiled  fingers  of  the  vile  and  the  wretched.  Here  the  leper  was 
cleansed,  the  halt,  the  lame,  and  the  blind  made  whole.  The 
broken-hearted  and  miserable  found  in  it  a  healing  lotion  for 
the  sore  spots  on  the  soul,  and  exchanged  here,  their  grief  for 
joy.  The  vilest  sinner  was  never  refused  a  drink,  and  the  poor 
were  made  welcome,  without  money  and  without  price.    An  im- 


66  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

mense  sign  iu  golden  letters  stood  over  the  rock,  proclaiming 
freedom  and  equality,  while  a  melodious  voice  was  heard  saying, 

"Come,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest." 

The  scene  changed  again :  A  broad,  deep,  and  turbid  torrent 
rushed  along,  sweeping  before  it  human  freedom,  and  drawing 
into  its  whirling  eddies  the  progress,  civilization,  and  culture 
of  ages.  Upon  its  bosom  floated  magnificent  palaces  in  which 
the  Priest  and  Levite  held  high  carnival,  where  ares  vehement 
hailed  the  degradation  of  man,  and  ignorance  was  held  to  be  the 
mother  of  devotion.  For  a  thousand  years  the  tainted  stream 
watered  the  earth  and  gave  drink  to  man.  Intoxicated  with 
the  Stygian  draught,  the  gaping  multitude  crouched  before,  and 
paid  homage  to  the  gorgeous  panoply.  Reason  abdicated  her 
throne,  and  hallucinations  born  of  religious  zeal  directed  the 
affairs  of  State.  The  world  went  to  sleep  and  the  old  man 
waked  up  w^ith  a  groan. 

Partly  the  uneasy  sleep,  but  mainly  the  misshapen  dream, 
caused  this  audible  expression  of  pain.  Rubbing  his  eyes,  and 
collecting  his  thoughts,  he  contemplated  the  past  history  of 
Christendom  with  a  sorrowful  countenance,  and  looking  out 
upon  the  beautiful  country  he  was  traveling  over  with  such 
lightning  speed,  his  amazement  found  expression  in  words,  but 
his  voice  was  drowned  in  the  roar  of  the  swiftly  moving  train. 
He  said  to  himself,  "How  is  it  that  so  turbid  a  torrent  could 
have  flowed  from  so  pure  a  fountain,  and  yet  persist  in  claiming 
that  fountaiii  as  its  source?  By  what  combination  of  human 
passion,  perversity,  and  misconception  could  have  grown  up 
or  been  extracted  anything  so  marvelously  unlike  its  original 
as  the  current  creeds  of  Christendom  ? 

"Out  of  the  teachings  of  perhaps  the  most  sternly  anti-sacer- 
dotal prophet  Avho  ever  inaugurated  a  new  religion,  has  been 
built  up  about  the  most  pretentious  and  oppressive  priesthood 
that  ever  weighed  down  the  enterprise  and  the  energy  of  the 
human  mind.  Christian  worship,  in  its  most  prevailing  form, 
has  been  made  to  consist  in  rites  and  ceremonies,  in  sacraments 
and  feasts  and  fasts  and  periodic  prayers.  Jesus  taught  his 
disciples  to  trust  in,  and  to  worship  a  tender  Father,  long-suffer- 


The  Journeg  Home.  67 

ing  and  plenteous  in  mercy : — those  who  speak  in  his  name  in 
these  latter  days,  tell  us  rather  of  a  relentless  Judge,  in  whose 
picture,  as  they  draw  it,  it  is  hard  to  recognize  either  justice 
or  compassion.  Theologians  transmogrify  the  pure  precepts 
and  devotion  of  Jesus  into  a  religion  as  nearly  as  possible  their 
opposite,  and  then  decree  that  whoever  will  not  adopt  their  trav- 
esty 'without  doubt  shall  perish  everlastingly.' 

"Priestcraft,  in  some  form,  has  dominated  the  human  mind 
from  the  remotest  ages,  but  the  very  masterpiece  of  human  wis- 
dom has  been  developed  in  the  polity  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 
The  experience  of  twelve  hundred  eventful  years,  the  ingenuity 
and  patient  care  of  forty  generations  of  statesmen,  have  im- 
proved that  polity  to  such  perfection,  that,  among  the  contriv- 
ances which  have  been  devised  for  deceiving  and  oppressing 
mankind,  it  occupies  the  highest  place."  After  this  soliloquy, 
the  tired  traveler  lapsed  into  a  sort  of  trance  or  semi-conscious 
state,  in  which  the  old  spectacle  which  so  disturbed  Jeremiah 
was  reproduced  before  his  eyes : 

"Shall  I  not  visit  for  these  things?  saith  the  Lord;  shall  not  my 
soul  be  avenged  on  such  a  nation  as  this?  A  wonderful  and  horrible 
thing  is  committed  in  the  land :  the  prophets  prophesy  falsely,  and 
the  priests  bear  rule  by  their  means ;  and  my  people  love  to  have 
it  so:  and  what  will  you  do  iu  the  end  thereof?" 

"What  will  you  do?"  said  the  echo.  "Do?"  answered  the  old 
man,  as  he  resumed  the  conscious  state,  "I  will  continue  to  teach. 
I  will  teach  the  young  and  the  old.  I  will  combat  error  and  pro- 
mulgate truth.  I  will  formulate  a  creed  in  accordance  with  the 
highest  attributes  of  hmnanity — a  creed  that  will  cover  up  the 
ugly  places  in  man's  nature  and  fit  him  for  the  exercise  of  that 
love  which  is  so  much  spoken  of  and  so  little  realized.  I  will 
show  to  those  that  have  eyes  to  see,  and  courage  to  look,  that  the 
orthodox  creeds  of  to-day  are  nothing  more  than  sewage  dipped 
from  the  filthy  stream  which  drowned,  for  a  thousand  years,  the 
progress  of  man.  I  will  show  the  priest  of  to-day  with  the  same 
mark  of  the  priest  of  yesterday.  I  will  hold  up  the  true  image 
of  God  in  man  that  all  may  see.  Instead  of  a  serpent  of  brass, 
I  will  lift  up  Reason,  and  ask  the  people  to  think.    It  will  not 


68  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

be  a  'prostitute  seated  on  a  chair  of  state  in  the  chancel  of  ISTotre 
Dame/  but  it  will  be  that  likeness  which  commanded  a  council 
of  the  triune  Godhead — a  convocation  of  the  Elohim  for  its 
making.  It  will  be  the  image  which  draws  the  line  between 
man  and  brute,  the  image  which  has  been  a  nightmare  and  re- 
proach to  priestcraft  in  all  ages,  and  which  religious  iconoclasm 
has  always  endeavored  to  smirch  and  destroy.  This  beautiful 
picture,  like  its  glory-cro^vned  Archetype,  will  not  fade.  Its 
beacon  light  will  yet  lift  man  from  the  slime  and  miasm  of  the 
putrid  river  of  superstition  and  fear.  It  will  not  down  at  the 
best  of  a  Beecher,  a  Talmage,  nor  a  Pope  of  Rome.  It  will 
eventually  preside  over  the  spiritual,  as  it  now  presides  over  the 
temporal  aifairs  of  man.  It  will  continue  to  shine  till  God  will 
be  seen  through  the  intellect  of  man.  Indeed,  this  image  is  the 
spiritual  light,  and  the  only  spiritual  light,  which  is  able  to 
make  and  guide  a  spiritual  faith.  Without  this  light,  faith 
would  be  an  unknown  factor  in  the  evolution  of  man.  Without 
this  light,  man  would  be  no  more  religious  than  the  brute.  Take 
away  reason,  and  those  subsidiary  faculties  denominated  moral 
and  religious,  would  vanish,  as  the  shadow  vanishes  on  with- 
drawing the  light.  Faith,  which  is  the  crowning  glory  of  man, 
and  which  enables  him  to  look  beyond  the  finite  into  the  infinite, 
is  the  last  link  in  the  chain  of  that  intellectual  endowment 
which  makes  him  a  moral  and  religious  being.  A  faith  which 
looks  no  higher  for  its  source  than  its  secondary  causes,  is  like 
an  oblation  to  an  insensible,  motionless  idol,  sitting  with  sight- 
less eyeballs,  staring  on  vacuity.  This  is  the  faith  which  the 
current  creeds  of  Christendom  inculcate.  This  is  the  'wonderful 
and  horrible  thing  committed  in  the  land.'  " 

The  approach  toward  home  had  been  rapid  and  continuous. 
The  teacher  began  to  feel  the  balmy  air,  and  to  snifi  the  balsamic 
odor  of  his  native  pine  forests.  On  the  sand-hills  of  ISTorth 
Carolina  he  had  been  bred  and  born,  and  spent  most  of  his  long 
and  blameless  life.  Here  he  felt  at  home.  Here  were  his 
friends,  and  here  he  loved  to  be.  The  great  West,  with  its  mud 
and  its  sluggish  streams,  was  an  uninviting  soil  to  an  old  man 
who  loved  to  walk.  The  North  was  cold  and  dreary.  Its  bustle, 
and  its  keen  rivaliy  of  personal  interests,  contrasted  unfavor- 
ably with  the  calm  of  a  Southern  fireside. 


The  Journep  Home.  69 

Money-making  was  out  of  his  line  and  foreign  to  liis  tliouglits. 
He  failed  to  appreciate  the  huriy  which  gave  little  time  to  sleep- 
ing, and  less  for  eating.  He  was  proud  of  the  great  strides  the 
world  was  making  in  material  benefits,  but  the  bent  of  his  mind 
lay  in  the  abstract  rather  than  concrete.  The  world  called  him 
a  dreamer,  theorizer — an  oddity.  He  was  more  like  a  dime  in 
a  barrel  of  coppers.  At  last,  the  train  drew  up  at  a  little  way- 
station  on  the  Atlantic  Coast  Line  Road,  and  the  schoolmaster, 
from  being  "abroad,"  was  at  home. 


70  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE    TRACK    IN    THE    ROAD. 

Around  the  little  station  lounged  a  few  idlers,  to  wliom  lie 
raised  his  hat  and  asked  concerning  their  health.  Being  travel- 
worn  and  dusty,  he  proceeded  at  once  to  his  home,  five  miles 
distant.  His  gait  was  awkward,  for  his  back  was  very  much 
bowed,  and  his  strides  long  and  deliberate.  He  habitually 
walked  with  his  head  down,  as  if  in  meditation.  The  idlers 
laughed,  as  empty  pates  always  laugh  at  wisdom. 

Proceeding  on  his  path,  his  eye  caught  the  impress  of  a  shoe 
which  arrested  his  attention.  The  track  was  peculiar.  The 
heeltap  made  an  impression  in  the  soft  earth,  which,  in  the 
present  state  of  the  old  man's  mind,  caused  him  to  watch  every 
step,  and  to  wonder  at  the  arrangement  of  the  nails.  An  ordi- 
nary shoe-heel  is  fastened  by  driving  the  nails  on  the  outside 
rim,  with  scattering  ones  on  the  inside,  and  occasionally  one  in 
the  center.  This  track  was  broad,  and  the  nails  in  the  heel 
formed  a  perfect  cross.  There  were  seven  nails  in  each  heel, 
and  wherever  the  earth  permitted  a  perfect  track  the  imprint 
was  thus : 


This  impress  of  a  shoe,  constantly  before  the  old  man's  eye, 
caused  his  thoughts  to  turn  back  to  his  dream  and  his  tedious 
ride  on  the  car.  He  had  often  seen  a  crucifoi"m  jewel  around 
the  neck  of  a  girl,  or  linked  to  the  chain  of  a  watch,  but  the 
idea  of  stamping  the  earth,  at  every  step  of  a  man,  with  an 
emblem  of  sacred  truth  exceeded  his  experience  and  excited  his 
curiosity.  His  thirst  after  knowledge  was  sometimes  eclipsed 
by  his  desire  to  scan  a  motive.  Here  was  an  incident  which 
might  be  of  peculiar  interest,  a  shoe-track  with  the  sign  of  the 
cross  imbedded  in  the  heel.  "The  wearer  of  this  shoe  must  have 
a  history,  a  story  to  tell,  a.  secret  burthen  to  bear.  He  may 
have  committed  an  offence — a  sin — for  which  his  conscience  is 
lashing,  and  his  soul  still  endeavoring  to  expiate.  It  may  be 
that  he  is  simply  superstitious,  and  wears  this  talisman  to  ward 
off  evil.     Perhaps  he  is  an  idle  vagabond,  without  motive  in 


The  Track  in  the  Road.  71 

carrying  this  emblem  of  the  religion  of  Christ,  and  without 
knowledge  of  its  import.  At  all  events,  I  am  curious  to  see  this 
shoe,  to  talk  with  its  wearer,  and  to  know  what  it  means." 

These  were  the  thoughts  which  passed  through  the  old  man's 
mind,  as  he  unconsciously  quickened  his  gait,  hoping  to  over- 
take the  maker  of  the  tracks.  As  he  turned  a  curve,  a  long 
straight  stretch  in  the  road  almost  made  him  despair  when  he 
saw  no  sign  of  a  pedestrian,  however  much  he  strained  his 
vision. 

"Distance,"  it  is  said,  "lends  enchantment  to  the  view."  If 
enchantment  could  mean  a  palpitating  impulse,  a  craving  desire 
to  move  faster  than  one  can  walk,  this  long  stretch  in  the  road, 
punctuated  at  every  step  with  the  mystic  symbol  of  a  deathless 
dogma,  would  charm  the  old  man's  eye  and  gladden  his  heart. 
But  the  heat  of  the  day  and  his  anxiety  to  overtake  the  walker 
dissipated  the  mirage,  and  left  him  at  the  end  of  the  course,  short 
of  breath,  and  full  of  perspiration.  His  ardor,  however,  was 
not  diminished.  The  tracks  appeared  more  recent;  he  was  evi- 
dently gaining  on  the  shoe.  All  at  once,  as  he  started  down  a 
slope  in  the  road,  he  espied  a  man  sitting  on  the  foot-log  of  a 
sand-hill  stream,  bathing  his  feet.  At  this  sight,  the  old  man's 
heart  leaped  for  joy.  Bathing  was  one  of  his  cardinal  virtues, 
and  he  thoroughly  believed  with  Pope,  that  cleanliness  is  next 
to  godliness.  Slacking  his  pace,  he  removed  his  hat  and  with  a 
large  bandanna  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  forehead.  He 
was  now  within  a  few  steps  of  the  shoe,  and  where  he  could 
take  a  critical  view  of  the  man.  He  was  about  to  make  a  greet- 
ing, when  his  attention  became  so  utterly  absorbed  at  the  appear- 
ance before  him,  that  words  failed,  and  his  motions  ceased. 
He  stood  as  if  nailed  to  the  spot.  The  individual  before  him 
had  the  appearance  of  age  and  youth  combined.  His  counte- 
nance betrayed  his  Semitic  origin,  and  his  features  were  typical 
of  the  modem  Jew.  Upon  a  general  view  he  appeared  to  be  in 
the  prime  of  life,  but  a  close  inspection  gave  the  impression  of 
extreme  age.  Wrinkles  combined  with  a  rosy  cheek,  hoary 
locks  with  a  juvenile  look,  a  brilliant  eye  in  a  sunken  orbit ; 
these  and  other  odd  characteristics,  together  with  his  dress  and 
shoes,  so  amazed  the  schoolmaster,  that  he  ventured  not  a  word 
until  the  bath  was  finished. 


72  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

All  odd  trait  in  the  character  of  the  old  teacher  has  not  yet 
been  mentioned.  However  much  he  might  wish  to  know  your 
opinion,  he  never  asked  a  direct  question.  While  his  curiosity 
was  equal  to  that  of  Mother  Eve,  he  would  beat  about  the  bush 
to  get  what  he  wanted,  rather  than  risk  the  possible  odium  of 
being  considered  a  Paul  Pry.  To  ask  him  a  direct  question 
was,  also,  equivalent  to  getting  no  answer.  These  characteris- 
tics of  a  cautious  mind  were  often  complained  of  by  his  pupils. 
The  impatient  ones  thought  his  method  tedious  and  dilatory. 
Especially  did  those  who  had  been  taught  in  the  usual  way 
object  to  making  haste  slowly.  At  the  end  of  each  term,  how- 
ever, the  impress  of  vigilance  was  stamped  more  or  less  distinctly 
upon  the  mind  of  every  one  who  came  under  his  influence. 

At  this  moment,  the  conflict  between  caution  and  curiosity 
was  vividly  displayed  in  his  countenance.  His  nostrils  dilated, 
his  mouth  twitched,  and  his  eyes  blinked.  He  was  in  a  dilemma. 
He  wanted  to  speak,  but  the  proper  salutation  would  not  come 
forward. 

Just  as  the  traveler  took  up  a  shoe,  the  old  man  said :  "Hail, 
friend !  good  afternoon." 

"God  be  with  you,"  replied  the  stranger,  continuing  to  put 
on  the  shoe. 

"I  almost  grudge  you  the  pleasure  of  your  bath  this  sultry 
day,  for  I  am  footsore  and  tired." 

"If  the  water  were  scarce,"  said  the  stranger,  "your  grudge 
might  be  excusable,  but  thanks  to  Providence  there  is  enough 
for  both ;  take  a  seat  and  enjoy  my  refreshment." 

"Thanks : — in  easy  reach  of  home,  I  will  defer  a  part  for  the 
whole,  and  there  enjoy  what  I  most  urgently  desire  and  need. 
I  have  traveled  much  by  rail  and  foot ;  am  dusty,  and  my  rai- 
ment is  out  of  repair." 

'^Traveled  much  ?  Ah !  my  friend,  you  know  not  what  you 
say.  Wo  one  knows  what  traveling  means  but  he  whose  only  de- 
sire is  rest." 

"Rest  is  a  great  boon  to  the  weary." 

"Yes,  indeed !  and  to  all  but  me  there  is  a  promise  saying, 

"  'Come  uuto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  ami  are  lieavy-hiclen.  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.'  " 


The  Track  in  the  Road.  73 

This  was  said  in  sucli  an  agonizing  tone  of  despair,  witli  a 
countenance  depicting  such  utter  wretchedness,  that  the  school- 
master, in  spite  of  his  stoical  philosophy,  averted  his  eye,  and 
cast  about  for  something  to  change  the  current  of  thought.  In 
this  he  made  a  bad  selection,  for  the  other  shoe  of  the  traveler 
lay  just  in  front  and  riveted  his  attention.  Fascinated  by  the 
shoe,  unable  to  change  the  current  of  thought,  he  yielded  to  the 
impulse,  and  spoke  of  the  tracks. 

"For  some  distance  back,"  he  said,  "I  have  noticed  a  strange 
mark  in  the  road,  rhythmical  with  the  step  of  a  man — in  fact,  a 
mould  of  that  very  step — which,  on  account  of  its  unwonted 
connection  with  a  track,  has  excited  in  me  a  most  lively  interest, 

and "     Here  the  stranger  took  up  the  shoe  and  handed  it 

to  the  old  man,  asking  him  at  the  same  time  to  examine  and  see 
if  it  had  any  connection  with  the  track.  His  curiosity  would 
be  gratified ;  he  might  possibly  learn  something. 

On  taking  the  shoe  in  his  hand,  he  was  forcibly  struck  with 
its  ancient  look,  and  yet  surprised  at  no  appearance  of  wear. 
It  looked  as  if  it  might  be  a  thousand  years  old,  and  at  the  same 
time  every  edge  was  sharp-cut,  the  sole  had  hardly  lost  its  pol- 
ish, and  the  heel  as  trim  as  when  first  taken  from  the  last.  It 
was  pliant  and  glossy  save  a  thin  coating  of  dust  from  recent 
use.  The  cross  formed  by  the  nails  in  the  heel  stood  out  in  re- 
lief, sharp-cut  and  bright.  The  balance  of  the  shoe  was  in- 
describable. It  appeared  to  be  made  of  scraps — parings  from 
the  cobbler's  knife  joined  together  in  so  skillful  a  manner  as  to 
defy  detection.  The  pieces  were  of  every  shape  and  size,  and 
put  together  in  every  conceivable  manner,  yet  dovetailed  and 
fitted  with  such  accuracy  and  finish  as  to  form  a  surface  re- 
sembling the  modern  alligator  leather. 

The  high  tension  of  the  old  man's  curiosity  was  being  grati- 
fied in  one  direction,  and  in  another  doubly  excited.  He  began 
to  see  the  outlines  of  strange  characters  in  these  scallopy  inoscu- 
lations. Some  of  them  resembled  letters,  others  hieroglyphics. 
Being  a  classical  scholar,  and  versed  in  antique  lore,  he  traced 
the  alphabets  of  many  ancient  languages. 

He  looked  long  enough  to  see  that  these  letters  formed  words, 
and  the  words  fonned  sentences.     Dumfounded,  he  handed  the 


74  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

shoe  back  to  the  stranger  with  this  simple  remark :  "Tlie  track 
must  have  been  made  by  this  shoe." 

The  interest  excited  by  the  track  eclipsed  itself  in  the  shoe. 

"The  Old  Ghost"  was  lost  to  the  external  world.  His  brain 
was  in  a  whirl.  Doubter  as  he  was,  he  began  to  suspect  his 
owaa  sanity.  He  had  met  with  more  than  he  bargained  for.  If 
the  appearances  before  him  were  real,  he  was  on  the  verge  of  a 
revelation.  The  more  he  looked  at  the  man,  the  more  he  thought 
of  the  shoe,  the  more  he  was  puzzled.  His  long  talk  with  Inger- 
soll,  his  troubled  dream  on  the  car,  his  ride,  his  walk,  the  heat 
of  the  day,  his  present  company,  all  contributed  to  a  state  of 
mental  perturbation  unusual  with  the  old  philosopher. 

Collecting  his  thoughts  by  a  strong  effort  of  the  will,  he  de- 
termined to  Avork  out  the  problem  if  tact  and  perseverance 
would  sustain  him.  The  man,  if  a  lunatic,  appeared  to  be  harm- 
less— he  would  invite  him  to  his  home. 

In  the  meantime  the  stranger  had  put  on  both  shoes  and  was 
ready  to  resume  his  walk. 

The  schoolmaster  was  nearing  his  home,  and  suggested,  as 
the  day  was  nearly  spent  and  the  traveler  must  be  tired,  that  he 
would  call  and  spend  the  night  with  him.  To  this  invitation 
the  pedestrian  thankfully  assented. 

Mr.  Eliot  was  so  well  pleased  with  his  success  that  he  walked 
along  in  silent  meditation.  His  thoughts  were  these:  "If  this 
man  is  insane,  I  shall  have  the  opportunity  of  studying  a  chap- 
ter in  Psychological  Medicine  from  a  most  interesting  clinic. 
The  great  principle  that  Mental  Disease  depends  solely  upon 
cerebral  conditions,  has  now  become  so  thorouglily  established 
that  it  is  no  longer  questioned.  Its  full  recognition,  however, 
has  been  followed  by  such  activity  of  observation  and  research, 
that  the  field  of  inquiry  has  been  extended  in  every  direction, 
and  at  the  present  time  it  may  truly  be  said  that  new  opinions, 
new  forms  of  Insanity,  and  new  remedies  have  been  and  are 
being  multiplied  at  a  rate  which  far  outstrips  the  steady  march 
of  consolidated  knowledge.  As  the  field  of  inquiry  extends,  the 
crop  of  good  results  is  more  difficult  to  garner. 

"At  the  present  time.  Psychological  Science  is  undergoing  a 
most  notable  process  of  expansion,  and  there  is  no  sign  that  it 
will  ever  again  be  'cribbed,  cabined,  and  confined'  by  dogmas, 


The  Track  in  the  Road.  75 

either  legal  or  tlieological,  nor  any  indication  that  its  bounds 
will  be  circumscribed  by  any  limits  more  narrow  than  man's 
powers  to  investigate  the  secrets  of  organization. 

''If  on  the  other  hand  he  is  rational,  and  really  is  what  his 
appearance  indicates,  I  shall  have  a  most  interesting  compan- 
ion, one  from  whom  I  shall  gather  knowledge,  and  whom  i 
shall  most  gladly  entertain."  .     ,       ,         . 

His  musings  were  interrupted  as  he  raised  his  head  and 
found  himself  at  his  own  gate.  "Here  is  our  place"  (he  never 
called  it  my  place)  ;  "walk  in."  ^^ 

The  tramp  obeyed  with  the  simple  remark :   "Thanks. 


76  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE    WANDERIA^G    JEW. 

Ghost  Eliot  was  a  bachelor.  His  establishment,  unlike  the 
usual  bachelor's  abode,  was  neat  and  tidy.  His  old  maid-serv- 
ant (formerly  a  slave)  was  as  neat  as  her  master.  Everything 
had  been  scrubbed  and  scoured  during  his  absence,  and  every- 
thing put  in  its  place. 

His  library,  more  noted  for  its  quaintness  than  for  the  num- 
ber of  its  volumes,  first  attracted  the  attention  of  the  stranger. 
He  was  looking  over  some  rare  old  books  when  supper  was 
announced. 

At  his  own  table  the  schoolmaster  always  invited  strangers 
to  ask  a  blessing.  Bowing  their  heads,  his  guest  said  this  sug- 
gestive grace : 

"Son  of  God — Christ !  Forgive  me  and  let  me  rest.  BlesSk  mine 
host  and  accept  our  thanks,  for  what  we  have  here  is  of  Thee." 

After  the  frugal  meal,  these  two  men,  the  one  so  alert,  yet  so 
reticent  in  his  inquiries,  the  other  so  modest  and  unassuming, 
attempted,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  a  general  conversation. 
It  was  slow  work.  The  mind  of  the  schoolmaster  was  not  on 
general  topics.  His  imagination  was  wrought  up  to  the  highest 
pitch  concerning  his  guest. 

Undecided  in  his  mind  as  to  his  being  insane,  and  unwilling 
to  suspect  him  of  crime,  he  found  it  difficult  to  conceal  his  de- 
sire to  know  something  of  the  past  history  of  one  who  seemed 
to  be  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  mystery. 

The  stranger,  obseiwing  this  anxiety  on  the  part  of  his  host, 
and  surmising  its  cause,  directed  in  a  delicate  way  the  conver- 
sation to  himself.  He  commenced  by  saying:  "The  bath  I 
took  this  afternoon  on  the  road  gave  such  relief  to  my  feet  that, 
with  your  permission,  I  will  slip  off  my  shoes  and  enjoy  that 
complete  rest  which  I  am  not  often  permitted,  even  tempo- 
rarily." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  teacher;  "and  I  will  join  you, 
for  I  seldom  sit  with  my  shoes  on  after  the  day's  work  is  done." 


The  Wandering  Jew.  11 

It  was  now  growing  dark,  and  the  old  maid-servant  brought 
in  a  newly-trimmed  lamp  and  placed  it  upon  the  table  in  the 
center  of  the  room. 

It  lighted  the  little  apartment  brilliantly. 

The  schoolmaster  placed  his  own  shoes  to  one  side  and  took 
up  the  stranger's.  Instead,  however,  of  placing  them  with  his, 
he  took  a  brush,  and  performing  the  duties  of  his  self-appointed 
office  of  boot-black,  soon  had  them  shining  and  glossy.  His 
sui'prise  was  again  excited  when  he  found  a  beautiful  polish, 
come  upon  the  shoes  with  a  few  strokes  of  the  brush  and  with- 
out blacking. 

He  then  took  a  seat  by  the  light  and  commenced  a  critical 
survey,  noting  the  inosculations  with  the  greed  of  an  Antiquary. 

The  letters  of  the  ancient  alphabets  became  more  visible  as 
he  examined  more  closely,  and  he  spelled  words  in  the  Punic, 
Chaldaic,  Phoenician,  Hebrew  and  Greek  languages.  He  saw 
line  after  line  in  hieroglyphics,  of  which  he  could  make  nothing. 
He  translated  the  Greek  and  saw  they  were  familiar  texts  from 
the  ISTew  Testament.  The  Hebrew  characters  he  could  under- 
stand well  enough  to  see  they  all  made  allusions  to  Jesus  Christ 
as  the  Son  of  God.  What  surprised  him  as  much  as  anything 
else  was,  that  he  could  find  neither  stitch  nor  peg  nor  nail,  save 
the  seven  in  the  heel  forming  the  cross. 

He  looked  at  his  guest  with  an  inquiring  eye  and  said :  "My 
friend,  your  shoes  are  a  puzzle,  an  enigma.  I  have  seen  many 
queer  products  of  the  mechanic  art.  I  have  studied  the  hydro- 
static paradox  and  the  magic  square.  I  can  understand  how 
an  ice-boat  and  a  reaction  water-wheel  may  travel  faster  than 
the  wind  or  water  which  propels  them,  but  these  shoes,  if  they 
are  a  product  of  human  mechanism,  have  obscured  much  of  the 
cobbler's  art.  I  find  neither  thread  nor  peg;  neither  seam  nor 
awl-hole.  I  look  in  vain  for  something  to  hold  the  parts  to- 
gether, and  while  I  have  never  seen  anything  which  appeared 
to  need  holding  together  more,  it  would  seem  that  each  part 
held  its  fellow  part  by  mutual  attraction.  The  mechanic  who 
made  these  shoes  must  know  more  of  the  art  than  the  shoemaker 
of  the  present  day.  Indeed,  here  is  evidence  of  esthetic  art, 
extraordinary  mechanism  and  classical  scholarship.  I  would 
like  to  be  acquainted  with  the  man  who  can  do  such  work." 


78  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"To  be  acquainted  with  the  maker  of  these  shoes,"  replied 
the  traveler,  "would  scarcely  be  profitable,  for  he  has  laid  aside 
the  tools  of  his  craft,  is  an  outcast  upon  the  world,  forsaken  of 
God  and  man." 

"You  speak  in  riddles." 

"The  shoemaker  himself  is  a  riddle." 

"Is  there  no  means  of  solving  the  riddle  ?" 

"Yes,  I  have  the  key." 

"Then  you  can  instruct  me?" 

"If  you  desire  it." 

"Xothing  would  please  me  better." 

"Listen,  then,  to  a  tale  of  sin  and  its  consequences. 

"I  was  born  a  Jew,  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  one  thousand 
nine  hundred  and  eighteen  years  ago.  My  family  was  poor,  my 
father  being  a  common  laborer.  I  was  apprenticed  to  a  shoe- 
maker at  the  age  of  seven.  The  ill-treatment  I  received  at  the 
hands  of  a  brutish  master,  the  lessons  in  dishonesty,  and  the 
hard  fare  of  an  apprentice  warped  my  little  intellect  and  stunted 
my  body.  I  grew  up  to  be  a  fair  cobbler,  but  an  accomplished 
rogTie.  I  studied  more  to  make  a  shoe  look  well  than  to  do 
honest  work.  I  became  a  favorite  cutter  and  fitter  to  the  snobs 
of  the  city,  and  increased  the  patronage  of  my  master  many 
fold.  I  began  to  feel  my  importance,  and  took  a  shop  of  my 
own.  It  was  on  the  main  thoroughfare  of  the  to"\vn,  and  my 
fame  as  a  maker  of  stylish  shoes  spread  far  and  "udde.  At  the 
age  of  thirty  I  had  an  established  business  and  a  fair  trade.  I 
decided  to  marry,  and  this  step  determined  my  fate.  My  wife 
proved  anything  but  a  helpmate.  She  was  extravagant,  pro- 
lific and  a  virago.  In  vain  I  made  stylish  shoes.  In  vain  I 
hammered  and  stitched  both  day  and  night,  burning  the  mid- 
night oil  when  I  ought  to  have  been  asleep.  In  vain  I  remon- 
strated with  her  for  wasting  the  fruits  of  my  toil.  In  vain  I 
attempted  to  reason  her  out  of  the  violence  of  her  temper.  My 
house  became  a  hell  through  improvidence  and  mismanagement. 

"I  became  morose  and  looked  upon  mine  as  a  hard  lot.  Is- 
rael, besides  being  a  civil  polity,  was  a  theocracy;  she  was  not 
merely  a  nation,  she  was  a  Church.  In  Israel,  religion  was  not, 
as  with  the  peoples  of  pagan  antiquity,  a  mere   attribute  or 


The  Wandering  Jew.  79 

function  of  the  national  life.  The  religion  of  the  Jew  was  the 
essence  and  the  glory  of  his  life. 

"Worship  was  to  him  what  progress  is  to  the  present  gen- 
eration. The  existence,  the  presence  of  One,  Supreme,  Living, 
Personal  Being,  who  alone  exists  necessarily  and  of  Himself, 
was  the  great  conviction  of  the  people  of  Israel.  The  Jew,  like 
Job,  would  have  no  daysman  come  betwixt  him  and  his  God. 
God  had  been  to  him  a  deliverer,  a  lawgiver  and  a  guide.  Any 
denial  of  his  God  or  his  mode  of  worship  was  a  personal  insult 
not  to  be  forgiven.  He  witnessed  daily  sacrifices  for  sin ;  he 
witnessed  the  sacrifice  of  sacrifices  which  Avas  offered  on  the 
Day  of  Atonement,  and  by  which  the  'nation  of  religion,'  imper- 
sonated in  its  High  Priest,  solemnly  laid  its  sins  upon  the  sacri- 
ficial victim,  and  bore  the  blood  of  atonement  into  the  Presence- 
chamber  of  God. 

"With  this  he  was  satisfied. 

"I  was  in  the  prime  of  life  when  Jesus  Christ  came,  preach- 
ing a  new  doctrine. 

"He  claimed  to  be  King  of  the  Jews,  the  Son  of  God,  the 
Savior  of  mankind.  He  habitually  associated  with  and  preached 
to  the  poor  and  ignorant.  He  denounced  our  rituals,  our  sacri- 
fices, our  feasts,  and  fasts.  He  preached  repentance  and  per- 
sonal righteousness.     He  said, 

"  'I  am  not  of  this  world.  I  am  from  above.'  'I  proceeded  forth 
and  came  from  God.' 

"He  claimed  to  be  the  Son  of  God !  This  claim  caused  his 
arrest  a,nd  trial  for  blasphemy.  The  Sanhedrim  condemned 
Him  because  He  claimed  Divinity.  The  members  of  the  Court 
stated  this  before  Pilate : 

"  'We  have  a  law,  and  by  our  law  lie  ought  to  die,  because  He  made 
Himself  the  Sou  of  God.' 

"All  this  took  place  while  I  hammered  at  my  last  and  stitched 
with  my  awl  and  thread.  I  had  ahvays  been  scrupulous  in  my 
religious  observances,  but  my  poverty  and  inability  to  rise  out 
of  it  prevented  my  taking  any  active  part  in  schismatic  opinions 
or  discussions.  I  heard  a  good  deal  of  the  strange  teachings 
of  Jesus,  but  knowing  him  to  be  the  son  of  a  carpenter,  and 


80  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

hearing  these  reports  only  among  the  poor  and  ignorant,  I  re- 
garded him  as  a  simple,  harmless  person,  who  had  lost  his  wits, 
or  a  vainglorious  braggart,  who  could  do  neither  good  nor  harm. 
But  when  the  Sanhedrim  had  pronounced  sentence  of  death 
upon  Him,  and  the  day  of  execution  was  fixed,  I  felt  my  ran- 
cor rise  against  him.  I  said,  'If  he  had  been  earning  an  honest 
living,  instead  of  leading  the  life  of  a  vagabond  and  upsetting 
the  minds  of  weak  persons,  he  would  now,  in  place  of  a  pris- 
oner, be  a  respectable  member  of  society;  let  him  go,  I  have  no 
sympathy  for  him.'  The  truth  is,  I  was  so  hardened  by  toil 
and  poverty  that  I  felt  truculent  toward  all  who  lived  without 
labor. 

"On  the  day  of  the  execution  I  was  so  pressed  by  my  neces- 
sities that  I  could  not  think  of  losing  the  time  to  attend,  yet, 
when  the  procession  came  along,  I  went  to  the  door  of  my  shop 
merely  to  see  the  crowd.  It  was  a  mob  composed  of  all  classes ; 
some  enemies,  some  friends  of  Jesus,  but  mostly  made  up  of 
idlers,  vagabonds  and  thoughtless  boys.  The  main  spectacle 
was  the  condemned,  who  were  compelled  by  law  to  carry  their 
crosses.  When  Jesus  came  by  He  was  weaiy  and  bent  under 
His  load.  He  asked  permission  to  rest  a  moment  upon  the  step 
of  my  door.  I  repulsed  Him  with  acerbity,  telling  Him  to 
go  on — 'Go  on,  Jesus,  to  your  deserts.'  He  looked  upon  me 
with  a  severe  countenance  and  said :  'I  go  to  rest,  but  thou 
shalt  go  on  till  I  return.' 

"I  went  back  to  my  work  with  a  sneer  on  my  lip,  but  the 
words,  'I  go  to  rest,  but  thou  shalt  go  on  till  I  retuni,'  kept 
ringing  in  my  ears.  I  tried  to  think  of  something  else  and 
hammered  furiously  at  my  last,  but  the  ominous  sound  con- 
tinued, first  in  the  whole  sentence,  then  in  parts.  Finally,  it 
got  down  to  the  monosyllable,  go !  and  this  was  repeated  so 
fast  and  in  such  a  whirring  monotone  as  to  be  positively 
painful. 

"I  got  up  and  walked  about,  and  stuck  my  fingers  in  my 
ears,  but  it  rang  more  violently,  go-go-go-go-go-go-go-ooooooooo  ! 
until  I  thought  my  ears  would  burst. 

"At  last,  without  knowing  what  to  do  or  where  to  go,  I  put 
on  my  hat  and  walked  out.  As  I  strode  along,  the  dreadful 
noise  weakened,  and  the  faster  I  walked  the  more  indistinct  it 


The  Wandering  Jew.  81 

became;  but  stop  for  a  moment,  and  it  would  return  Avitli  in- 
creased tension,  'Go  on,  till  I  return,  go-go-go-go!'  And  tbus 
it  has  been  from  that  day  if)  this  with  few  exceptions.  I  con- 
tinued to  walk  aimlessly,  and  scarcely  knowing  the  direction  I 
took  until  I  found  myself  upon  Calvary,  where  the  Crucifixion 
was  going  on.  I  mingled  with  the  crowd,  spoke  to  many 
acquaintances,  and  jested  with  the  enemies  of  Jesus,  trying 
every  means  to  get  rid  of  the  horrible  din  in  my  ears. 

"Crucifixion  is,  perhaps,  the  most  cruel  mode  of  executing 
the  death  penalty  ever  devised  by  man.  It  is  slow  torture,  and 
death  is  the  result  of  pain  and  exhaustion.  After  many  hours 
the  wretched  victim  dies  without  a  struggle,  thankful  for  the 

end. 

"On  this  memorable  day,  when  the  idle  and  thoughtless  be- 
gan to  stretch  and  yawn  at  the  tedium  of  the  torture,  and  the 
rancorous  even  began  to  surfeit  ^dth  the  misery  they  came  to 
behold,  when  conversation  waned,  and  the  black  mantle  of 
Death  began  to  hover  over  the  scene,  a  wail  from  the  tree  on 
which  Jesus  himg— a  wail  heart-rending  and  despairing,  un- 
earthly in  its  cadence  of  anguish  and  despondency,  rent  the  air, 
and  sent  a  thrill  of  sadness  through  the  most  callous  soul : 

"'Eloi,  Eloi,  lama  SahachthanU' 

"I  turned  and  saw  the  death  agony,  the  finale  of  the  passion 
of  the  Savior  of  mankind. 

"My  eyes  were  suddenly  opened  to  the  heinousness  of  my 
crime,  and  I  started  upon  a  journey  that  has  never  ceased,  a 
pilgrimage  that  will  end  only  with  the  second  coming  of  Christ. 
I  realized  for  the  first  time  that  a  curse  was  upon  me,  and  that 
my  expiation  was  an  endless  pererration.  Go  on,  go  on,  go-go- 
go !  sounded  like  thunder  in  my  ears,  and  pierced  my  brain 
like  electric  shocks.  Whenever  I  attempted  to  stop  the  omi- 
nous roar  drove  me  forward.  Over  hill  and  dale,  through 
forest  and  fen,  among  civilized  and  savage  nations  I  have 
roamed  ceaselessly:  praying  for  death,  attempting  suicide,  en- 
listing in  war,  courting  the  perils  of  the  sea  and  defying  God 
that  He  might  strike  me  dead.  I  stiidied  the  sciences  of  life 
and  death,  learned  all  the  cures  of  disease,  made  a  special  study 
of  Toxicology,  and  ventured  into  the  labyrinth  of  Esoteric 
Buddhism.     I  traversed  the  miasmatic  jungles  of  India,  slept 


82  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

in  bogs,  exposed  myself  to  putrid  emanations  and  noisome 
effluvia,  entered  the  dens  of  wild  beasts  and  poisonous  serpents, 
lay  in  the  path  of  Thugs,  and  prostrated  myself  before  the  Car 
of  Juggernaut. 

"My  sole  object  then,  as  now,  was  rest.  Rest  in  peace,  in 
death,  in  annihilation — anything  for  rest.  That  craving  has 
never  ceased,  its  fulfillment  has  never  been  realized.  How  to 
obtain  this  goal  has  been  my  daily  thought  for  near  two  thou- 
sand years.  The  methods  only  have  changed.  Then  I  was 
rebellious,  now  I  am  humble.  I  felt  that  my  rancor  was  just, 
and  bottled  it  up  to  give  it  more  strength.  I  roamed  for  a 
thousand  years  over  every  part  of  the  habitable  globe,  cursing 
the  day  I  was  bom,  and  never  ceasing  to  revile  the  author  of 
my  misery.  I  felt  that  I  had  committed  a  crime — but  that  my 
punishment  was  out  of  proportion  to  my  guilt.  I  beleaguered 
with  human  philosophy  the  eternal  wisdom  of  God,  set  myself 
the  task  of  rejudging  the  justice  of  Omnipotence.  My  rebel- 
lious spirit  sustained  me  until  the  blackness  of  despair  obscured 
my  vision,  and  the  ceaseless  torment  of  bodily  pain  provoked 
repentance.  Repentance  was  a  new  doctrine  to  the  Jew,  a  new 
mode  of  expiating  crime.  It  came  to  me  with  tears,  remorse, 
and  despair.  I  fell  prostrate  before  the  image  of  a  Crucified 
Savior  and  begged  in  piteous  moans  for  rest.  I  ceased  from 
this  moment  to  indulge  the  folly  of  self-justification — the  van- 
ity of  intellectual  pride.  I  felt  that  my  sentence  was  just,  that 
by  an  act  of  my  own  free  will  I  had  forfeited  the  inheritance 
of  my  Maker — had  sold  my  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage. 
All  this  time  I  was  an  outcast  from  the  society  of  men,  a  vaga- 
bond upon  earth  with  the  mark  of  Cain  upon  my  brow.  The 
food  I  received  was  as  a  bone  thrown  to  a  dog,  accompanied 
with  a  ban. 

"The  one  exception  to  this  endless  and  fruitless  journey  of 
despair  and  remorse  may  be  found  in  the  Chronicles  of  Car- 
tophilus — a  bit  of  literature  rare,  and  sacred  to  the  memory  of 
Isaac  Lakedion,  whose  wanderings  make  record  in  the  poly- 
chronicons  of  cloistered  monks. 


The  Wandering  Jew.  83 

"Thus  it  is,  saioth  the  Chronicles : 

"On  the  third  day  of  the  month  Ehil  and  of  the  Creation,  3839 — 
which  answereth  to  Augnst  22,  A.  D.  TO,  I  left  I'iostnm,  before  the 
stars  of  tlie  morning  were  dimmed,  and  reached  Pompeii  on  the  night 
of  that  day.  The  smi  was  now  buried  in  the  waters  of  the  Great 
Gulph,  as  I  entered  the  eastern  gate  of  Pompeii.  A  black  and 
heavy  cloud  hung  over  the  western  horizon — the  water  of  the  Sarnus 
were  much  swelled — the  Great  Sea  was  more  agitated  than  had 
been  known  for  many  years,  and  the  numerous  vessels  in  the  south- 
ern and  western  harbors  were  with  difficulty  held  to  their  moorings. 

"The  night,  however,  though  passed  in  safety,  gave  us  dreadful 
presages,  and  was  full  of  terrors  to  many.  The  multitude,  neverthe- 
less, were  keen  as  usual  in  the  gratification  of  their  darling  pleasures ; 
and  though  nature  scowled  with  angry  threatenlngs,  I  found  the 
streets  filled  with  crowds  in  pursuit  of  gain,  of  vice,  of  folly  and 
of  voluptuous  enjoyments — whilst  a  few  were  seen,  as  it  were,  creep- 
ing into  the  temples,  and  offering  to  the  gods  a  feeble  lip-service,  or  a 
hideous  outcry,  from  excessive  alarm. 

"On  the  morning  of  the  fifth  of  Elul  the  sun  rose  with  his  usual 
lustre,  the  black  and  pregnant  cloud  had  nearly  vanished;  the  sea 
was  greatly  calmed;  and  the  angry  mountain  was  giving  but  an  oc- 
casional moan — a  much  diminished  volume  of  smoke  and  fire  : — but, 
alas!  all  this  was  only  the  forebodemeut  of  an  insidious  and  awful 
outbreak ! 

"Night  came  on,  and  with  it  an  hour  was  dedicated  to  my 
Chronicles,  in  obedience  to  my  long  habit,  as  well  as  from  the  gloom 
that  had  nearly  overcome  me ;  for  the  condition  of  the  mountain  was 
now  becoming  very  alarming,  and  our  great  desire  was  to  hasten  on 
our  road  that  night,  if  possible,  or  by  the  early  dawn  of  the  morning. 

"Wearied  became  my  eyelids,  and  unto  my  couch  I  repaired  for 
rest,  Vesuvio  volente! 

"I  need  not  recount  the  manner  in  which  I  became  buried  quite 
fifteen  cubits  beneath  the  ashy  showers  of  Vesuvius,  which  ceased  not 
entirely  to  pour  down  during  several  days;  nor  can  I  describe  my 
agonies  when  the  incumbent  weight  increased  upon  me,  and  as  I 
became  more  and  more  conscious  that  life  designed  not  to  leave  me; 
but  that  I  was  destined  to  exist  under  a  load  of  unimaginable 
tortures — how  long  I  could  then  in  nowise  conjecture ! 

"Happily  for  me,  all  this  was  preceded  by  a  marvelous  change  of 
all  that  was  corporeal  in  me,  and  with  little,  if  any,  note  of  time; 
for  the  years  I  lay  there  were,  as  to  time,  but  a  dreamy  existence; 
and  yet,  in  all  other  things,  with  the  same  vivid  sight  and  con- 
sciousness that  often  belong  to  man  during  the  brightest  visions  of  the 
night ! 


84  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"At  first,  all  around  me  was  black  aud  pfilpfible  darkness — but  soon, 
great  was  my  wonder  when  a  mild  and  comparative  light,  if  snch 
it  might  be  called,  slowly  beamed  in  npon  me,  and  more  as  if  it 
foxind  its  source  within  me  than  anywhere  without! — for  all  things, 
after  a  while,  seemed  to  become  parts  of  myself— attended,  moreover, 
by  such  a  preternatural  increase  of  my  vision  that  even  Nature's 
minutest  objects — their  most  intimate  organization,  and  their  very 
essences,  were  glaringly  before  me,  and  soon  thereafter  became  to 
me,  either  odiously,  or  delightfully  familiar,  according  to  their  very 
diverse  natures ! 

"To  my  then  ethereal  and  piercing  vision,  all  nature  around  me 
teemed  with  life;  aud  the  astounding  fact  was  revealed  to  me  that 
nearly  all  matter,  which,  to  the  natural  eye  is  so  inert  and  lifeless,  is 
perpetually  quickening  into  animation  and  bursting  into  active  exist- 
ences— or,  sinking  into  death — there  to  assume  other  mutations,  again 
springing  into  or  sustaining  life !  Plere  it  was  that  I  first  learned  to 
know  that,  in  all  creation,  there  exists  a  vast  connected  chain  of  be- 
ing— an  infinite  progressive  series  of  animation — filling  all  things, 
aud  giving  breath,  yea  thought — and  hence,  the  power  and  duty  of 
praise  to  Him  who  alone  Is  the  Fountain  whence  they  spring,  and 
whither  they  must  all  return — each  at  its  own  appointed  time ! 

"The  years  I  had  thus  unconsciously  passed,  as  to  time,  beneath 
those  ashes,  were  often  occupied  by  me  in  contemplating  all  those 
awakening  things  that  then  encompassed  me — also  in  reminiscences 
of  the  hateful  past,  and  in  forebodings  of  the  yet  more  odious  and 
terrific  future!  These  musings  flitted  through  my  mind,  exciting  it 
to  the  keenest  curiosity — and  then  subduing  it  with  wonder.  At 
other  times  I  found  myself  earnestly  engaged  in  noting  the  habits  and 
fashions  of  life  among  the  infinitely  various  and  small  beings  that 
moved  and  gamboled  and  died  around  me  I  And,  as  I  now  remember, 
when  Vesuvius  was  casting  forth  more  than  its  wonted  volume  of 
fire  and  smoke,  I  perceived  that  the  earth  was  everywhere  penetrated 
with  a  most  odious  and  pestiferous  «(//"«,  charged  with  sulphurous  and 
arsenical  particles,  and  with  other  metallic  poisons !  But  great  in- 
deed was  my  wonder  on  beholding  that,  when  these  noxious,  though 
extremely  attenuated  effluvia,  were  piercing  thoroughly  the  earth,  ac- 
companied with  sudden  and  tumultuous  motions,  far  and  wide,  these 
were  followed  by  a  rush  from  the  earth,  into  the  air,  of  countless 
myriads  of  those  inconceivably  minute  insects,  then  so  hideously 
augmented  to  my  vision,  but  which  to  man  would  continue  unseen, 
were  even  an  hundred  million  of  them  united  into  a  single  mass ! 
These  little  beings,  nevertheless,  were  intensely  venomous  for  their 
volume ;  and  when  bi*eathed  in  by  man  or  beast,  have  often  proved 
the  cause  of  many  foul  diseases — of  plagues,  and  of  many  unknown 
maladies,  to  baffle  the  skill  of  every  Hippocrates,  and  to  prove  so 
mortal  to  our  siiecies !     Those  life-killing   insects  are  often  wafted 


The  Wandering  Jew.  85 

to  great  distauces  by  siidtleu  and  resistless  currents  of  air, — causing 
sickness,  or  deatli,  even  in  the  remotest  regions,  and  ever  in  the  ratio 
of  the  densitj'  of  their  numbers ;  and  in  places,  too,  where  Vesuvius, 
or  ^Etna,  is  yet  utterly  unknown!* 

"How  I  eventually  escaped  from  my  earthy  stronghold,  and  emei'ged 
once  more  to  hail  the  blessed  light  of  heaven,  and  to  inspire  its 
balmy  air,  with  a  more  refreshened  spirit  than  when  I  entered 
Pompeii's  walls,  need  not  be  told  further  than  that  some  plunderers 
came  and  sedulously  dug  over  the  very  spot  beneath  where  I  lay; 
but  having  searched  in  vain,  after  removing  much  of  the  earth  above 
me,  they  left  my  body  almost  visible !  As  night  approached,  the 
moisture,  and  the  rush  of  fresh  and  vital  air  into  my  lungs,  so  long 
a  stranger  to  it,  gave  me  an  awakening  sensation,  and  soon  a  con- 
sciousness of  a  returning  power  of  locomotion !  The  blood  now  be- 
gan to  course  rapidly  through  my  veins ;  and  suddenly  arousing  my- 
self, as  with  a  convulsive  struggle,  I  bounded  upon  my  feet  into 
the  open  air — w^here  all  around  me  were  silence  and  the  darkness 
of  a  moonless  night ! 

"My  usual  vision  was  instantly  restored ;  and  early  did  I  experience 
a  longing  for  food !  Vesuvius,  as  usual,  had  a  few  small  streams  of 
burning  lava  down  its  sides ;  and  by  this  was  given  me  the  direction 
I  would  go ;  so  that,  before  the  Aawn  of  day,  Cartaphilus  was  again 
among  the  living,  and  suitably  clad,  at  the  'Otiosa  Xeapolis' — where, 
after  nourishing  the  outer  man  during  some  days,  he  procured  a  small 
vessel,  and  hastened  on  to  his  beloved  abode  at  Psestum,  after  an 
absence  of  just  six  years,  less  ten  days !  And  here  in  Psestum,  three 
days  thereafter,  I  recorded  this  portion  of  my  Chronicle. 

"But  the  story  of  the  marvelous  past  is  not  yet  quite  told.  Skipping 
over  many  years  from  the  time  of  my  entombment  in  the  ashes  of 
Pompeii,  I  return  to  the  regular  course  of  my  fitful  and  eventful 
career,  enacted  with  men,  and  measured  by  time  which,  in  the 
present  day,  would  be  deemed  a  waste  and  a  crime." 


*The  modern  (?)  theory  of  the  microbe  origin  of  disease  is  here  exposed,  and 
many  recent  discoveries  in  medicine  have  proved  to  be  the  resurrected  remains  of 
ancient  aruspicy.    Verily,  "there  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun." 


86  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    CRUSADES. 

"Footsore,  dejected  in  spirit  and  without  object  in  my  ram- 
bles, one  day  on  the  dusty  highways  of  Continental  Europe  I 
met  a  man  of  mean  appearance,  riding  a  mule  and  bearing  a 
weighty  crucifix.  His  head  was  bare,  his  feet  naked,  his  meager 
body  was  wrapped  in  a  coarse  garment.  His  stature  was  small, 
his  appearance  contemptible ;  but  his  eyes  were  keen  and  lively, 
and  he  possessed  that  vehemence  of  speech  which  seldom  fails 
to  impart  the  persuasion  of  the  soul.  This  man,  who  had  for- 
saken his  wife,  and  abandoned  his  military  standard  under  the 
Counts  of  Boulogne,  had  returned  from  the  Holy  Land  with 
his  heart  on  fire,  not  so  much  from  the  memory  of  the  hard- 
ships which  he  had  himself  undergone,  as  for  the  cruelties  and 
tortures  which  he  had  seen  inflicted  on  his  fellow-Christians. 

"He  halted  me  on  the  road  and  demanded  to  know  my  busi- 
ness. 

"I  endeavored  to  evade  his  glance,  and  pass  his  searching 
eye;  but  he  was  too  much  in  earnest  to  lose  one  opportunity  of 
impressing  the  importance  of  his  mission  upon  the  lowliest  of 
his  fellows.  I  yielded  to  his  persuasions  and  followed  in  his 
wake. 

"Peter  the  Hermit  (for  this  was  he)  preached  to  innumerable 
crowds  in  the  churches,  the  streets  and  the  highways ;  he  entered 
with  equal  confidence  the  palace  and  the  cottage,  and  the  j)eople 
were  impetuously  moved  by  his  call  to  repentance  and  arms. 
"When  he  painted  the  sufferings  of  the  natives  and  pilgrims  of 
Palestine,  every  heart  was  melted  to  compassion;  every  breast 
glowed  with  indignation  when  he  challenged  the  warriors  of  the 
age  to  defend  their  brethren  and  rescue  their  Saviour.  His 
vehemence  carried  all  before  him,  none  the  less,  perhaps,  because 
he  bade  them  remember  that  no  sins  were  too  heinous  to  be 
washed  away  by  the  waters  of  the  Jordan,  no  evil  habits  too 
deadly  to  be  condoned  for  the  one  good  work,  which  should 
make  them  champions  of  the  cross.  Pope  Urban  the  Second 
received  him  as  a  prophet,  applauded  his  glorious  design,  prom- 
ised to  support  it  in  a  general  council,  and  encouraged  him  to 


The  Crusades.  87 

proclaim  the  deliverance  of  the  Holy  Land.  Invigorated  by 
the  approbation  of  the  pontiff,  his  zealous  missionary  traversed, 
with  speed  and  success,  the  provinces  of  Italy  and  France.  The 
most  polished  orator  of  Athens  might  have  envied  the  success 
of  his  eloquence.  This  indefatigable  teacher  inspired  the  pas- 
sions which  he  felt,  and  Christendom  expected  with  impatience 
the  counsels  and  decrees  of  the  supreme  pontiff. 

"The  Europe  of  that  day  was  very  different  from  the  Europe 
of  ours.    It  was  in  its  Age  of  Faith. 

"Recently  converted,  as  all  recent  converts  do,  it  made  its  be- 
lief a  living  rule  of  action.  In  our  times  there  is  not  upon  that 
continent  a  nation  which,  in  its  practical  relations  with  others, 
carries  out  to  their  consequences  its  ostensible,  its  avowed  ar- 
ticles of  belief.  Catholics,  Protestants,  Mohammedans,  they  of 
the  Greek  Communion,  indiscriminately  consort  together  under 
the  expediences  of  the  passing  hour.  Statesmanship  has  long 
since  been  dissevered  from  religion — a  fact  most  portentous  for 
future  times.  But  it  was  not  so  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Men  then 
believed  their  form  of  faith  with  the  same  clearness,  the  same 
intensity  Avith  which  they  believed  their  own  existence  or  the 
actual  presence  of  things  upon  which  they  cast  their  eyes.  The 
doctrines  of  the  Church  were  to  them  no  mere  inconsequential 
affair,  but  an  absolute,  an  actual  reality,  a  living  and  a  fearful 
thing.  It  would  have  passed  their  comprehension  if  they  could 
have  been  assured  that  a  day  would  come  when  Christian 
Europe,  by  a  breath,  could  remove  from  the  holy  places  the 
scandal  of  an  infidel  intruder,  but,  upon  the  whole,  would  con- 
sider it  not  worth  her  while  to  do  so.  How  differently  they 
acted.  When  by  the  preaching  of  Peter  the  Hermit  and  his 
collaborators,  who  had  received  a  signal  from  Rome,  a  knowl- 
edge had  come  to  their  ears  of  the  reproach  that  had  befallen 
Jerusalem  and  the  sufferings  of  the  pilgrims,  their  plain  but 
straightforward  common  sense  taught  them  at  once  what  was 
the  right  remedy  to  apply,  and  forthwith  they  did  apply  it, 
and  Christendom,  precipitated  headlong  upon  the  Holy  Land, 
was  brought  face  to  face  with  Mohammedanism. 

"The  crusades  have  been  condemned,  ridiculed,  and  held  up 
as  examples  of  fanaticism  run  mad.  Historians,  failing  to  com- 
prehend the  efficient  causes,  and  painting  the   surface  scenes 


88  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

only,  have  left  the  Holy  Wars  under  a  ban.  An  impulse  so 
l^OAverfnl  as  to  combine  nations  in  arms  for  the  accomplishment 
of  one  purpose  may  not  be  classed  with  causes  which  operate  to 
produce  individual  actions.  The  individual  is  actuated  by  his 
o^\Ti  will,  and  may  or  may  not  do  at  his  discretion,  but  national 
movements  are  inaugurated  under  the  direction  of  causes  over 
which  the  individual  has  little  control.  It  is  true  that  the  Her- 
mit, by  his  preaching,  fanned  the  flame  which  was  already 
aglow,  and  precipitated  a  half  million  of  men,  poorly  prepared, 
upon  a  scheme  which  resulted  in  disaster  to  many  individuals, 
but  the  final  outcome  of  that  scheme  was  to  uphold  and  strengthen 
the  Church  of  Christ. 

"In  these  wars  I  engaged  with  a  relish,  a  zeal  second  only  to 
that  of  Peter.  I  put  on  the  badge  of  the  cross,  and  headed  the 
van.  Throughout  the  weary  marches,  the  sufferings,  and  the 
privations  of  the  nine  Holy  Wars,  I  was  a  brave  soldier,  a 
valiant  knight  of  the  Cross.  I  am  the  only  living  witness  of 
those  eventful  times,  and  if  the  crusades  disappointed  the  ex- 
pectation of  their  promoters,  they  achieved  some  results,  the 
benefits  of  which  have  been  felt  from  that  day  to  the  present. 
They  failed,  indeed,  to  establish  the  permanent  dominion  of 
Latin  Christendom,  whether  in  ISTew  Rome  or  in  Jerusalem ; 
but  they  prolonged  for  nearly  four  centuries  the  life  of  the 
Eastern  empire,  and  by  so  doing  they  arrested  the  tide  of  Ma- 
hometan conquests  as  effectually  as  it  was  arrested  for  N^orthern 
Europe  by  Charles  Martel  on  the  plain  of  Tours.  They  saved 
the  Italian  and  perhaps  even  the  Teutonic  and  the  Scandina- 
vian lands  from  a  tyranny  which  has  blasted  the  fairest  regions 
of  the  earth ;  and  if  they  added  fuel  to  the  flame  of  theological 
hatred  between  the  Orthodox  and  the  Latin  churches,  if  they 
intensified  the  feelings  of  suspicion  and  dislike  between  the 
Eastern  and  the  Western  Christians,  they  yet  opened  the  way 
for  an  interchange  of  thought  and  learning  which  had  its  result 
in  the  revival  of  letters,  and  in  the  religious  reformation  which 
followed  that  revival.  The  ulterior  results  of  the  crusades  were 
the  breaking  up  of  the  feudal  system,  the  abolition  of  serfdom, 
the  supremacy  of  a  common  law  over  the  independent  jurisdic- 
tion of  chiefs  who  claimed  the  right  of  private  Avars ;  and  if  for 
the  time  they  led  to  deeds  of  iniquity  which  it  would  be  mon- 


The  Crusades.  89 

strous  even  to  palliate,  it  must  yet  be  admitted  that  in  their 
influence  on  later  ages  the  evil  has  been  assuredly  outweighed 
by  the  good. 

"This  brief  allusion  to  the  crusades  will  enable  you  the  bet- 
ter to  understand  what  I  am  about  to  relate  in  regard  to  the 
shoes. 

"When  the  last  soldier  had  been  disbanded  from  the  crusad- 
ing armies,  and  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  had  been  washed,  and 
order  somewhat  restored,  I  found  myself  standing  one  day  in 
the  market-place,  close  by  the  site  of  the  ancient  Temple.  The 
day  was  cloudy  and  the  scene  dreary.  The  few  coster-men 
whose  stalls  were  occasionally  visited  by  an  ancient  crone,  or  a 
ragged  child,  seemed  to  take  no  interest  in  their  trade.  The 
leaden  hue  of  dejection  sat  upon  their  features,  and  it  appeared 
to  be  an  effort  for  them  to  tell  the  price  of  their  wares.  As  I 
contemplated  their  forlorn  appearance,  and  ruminated  upon 
the  changed  complexion  of  this  once  busy  mart,  the  old  grating 
hum  of  'go,  go,  go  on,  go  on  till  I  return,'  which  had  been  par- 
tially drowned  in  the  busy  scenes  of  the  crusades,  began  a  fresh 
and  invigorated  strain,  which  warned  me  that  my  days  of  pil- 
grimage were  not  yet  ended." 


90  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    CRAZY    SHOEMAKER. 

''As  I  was  about  to  obey  tbe  summons,  and  pay  another  in- 
stallment upon  the  wages  of  my  sin,  a  little  old  man,  bmnp- 
backed  and  blind  of  one  eye,  mounted  a  box  and  began,  with 
wild  gesticulations  and  vociferou^s  speech,  to  call  attention  to  a 
pair  of  sandals  he  held  in  his  hands.  His  speech  was  so  inco- 
herent, so  disconnected,  and  withal  so  pathetic,  that  I  stayed  a 
moment  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say.  As  no  one  paid  him  the 
slightest  attention,  and  as  he  appeared  none  the  less  in  earnest 
on  that  account,  I  ventured  to  ask  a  Mohammedan  bystander 
w^ho  he  was,  and  what  he  meant  by  disturbing  the  market-place 
in  the  manner  he  was  doing.  The  reply  Avas,  'He  is  a  crazy 
shoemaker,  living  on  Mount  Calvary,  and  imagines  he  is  in 
possession  of  the  sandals  worn  by  that  deluded  prophet,  Jesus, 
the  so-called  Christ,  who  was  crucified  by  order  of  Pilate  for 
calling  himself  the  Son  of  God,  and  in  whose  name  the  streets 
of  this  city  have  recently  flowed  knee-deep  in  human  blood — 
blood  of  innocent  babes  and  helpless  women — in  whose  name 
more  crime,  more  sin  has  been  committed,  more  lives  lost,  more 
treasure  wasted,  more  tears  shed  and  more  brains  demented, 
than  by  the  combined  folly  of  man  since  superstition  first 
erected  an  altar  to  igiiorance  and  fear.  He  comes  here  every 
day  at  this  hour,  and  goes  through  his  present  performance, 
after  which  he  returns  to  his  hut,  and  spends  most  of  his  time 
in  repairing  the  footgear  of  the  neighboring  peasants.  I  am 
told  that  he  is  very  ingenious  at  his  trade,  and  that  some  of 
his  work  is  a  great  puzzle  to  the  shoemakers  of  the  city.  He 
is  harmless,  and  the  authorities,  after  exhausting  their  means 
to  suppress  him,  have  decided  to  interfere  with  him  no  more. 
jSTo  one  pays  the  least  attention  to  him.  Even  the  boys  have 
ceased  to  hoot  him.' 

"Notwithstanding  the  apparent  insanity  of  the  man,  I  could 
perceive  that  he  was  in  real  earnest,  and  believed  Avith  all  his 
soul  that  the  message  he  was  delivering  not  only  had  merit, 
but  came  to  him  from  authority  which  made  it  his  imperative 


The  Crazp  Shoemaker.  91 

duty  to  iterate,  and  reiterate,  day  by  day,  the  monitions  of  liis 
secret  counsellor.  He  ceased  his  harangue,  cast  up  his  eyes, 
and  with  outstretched  hands  exclaimed  in  pathetic  tones: 

"O,  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  thou  that  killest  the  prophets,  and  stonest 
them  which  are  sent  unto  thee ;  how  often  would  I  have  gathered 
thy  children  together,  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under 
her  wings,  and  ye  would  not !  Behold  your  house  is  left  unto  you 
desolate.' 

"With  this  outburst  of  feeling,  he  descended  from  his  perch 
and  proceeded  without  another  word  to  his  hut.  I  followed 
closely,  and  by  the  time  the  old  man  had  seated  himself,  I 
entered  behind  him. 

*^This  little  old  cobbler's  den,  situated  on  the  very  spot  where 
the  Crucifixion  took  place  a  thousand  years  before,  was  a  ver- 
itable curiosity  shop.  The  fixtures  to  the  shoemaker's  trade, 
as  I  knew  them  in  former  days,  were  not  to  be  seen.  Instead 
of  the  last,  he  used  a  kind  of  plastic  mould,  by  which  he  fitted 
the  shoe  to  the  exact  shape  of  the  foot.  In  place  of  thread,  he 
used  cement,  and  his  leather  was  all  in  scraps,  prepared  by  a 
ponderous  machine  with  knives  and  rollers  so  constructed  that, 
when  gauged  by  the  mould,  every  part  of  the  shoe,  ready  cut, 
ready  hammered,  and  ready  polished,  dropped  out  to  fit  the 
very  foot  for  which  the  machine  was  gauged.  The  hammer 
was  supplemented  by  a  press,  the  exact  construction  of  which 
I  never  understood.  It  was  in  the  shape  of  a  cross,  with  hollow 
shaft,  and  a  sliding  door  at  the  juncture  of  the  limbs.  When  a 
shoe  was  to  be  made  or  repaired,  the  parts  all  being  placed  in 
apposition  in  the  mould  and  properly  cemented,  it  was  removed 
to  this  press  and  the  sliding  door  sealed.  The  limbs  acted  as 
levers,  being  bent  down  and  fastened  to  the  shaft.  After  a 
length  of  time,  according  to  the  work  done,  either  a  shoe  re- 
paired or  newly  made,  the  levers  were  raised,  the  door  opened 
and  the  shoe  removed.  It  came  out  of  the  press  ready  for  the 
foot.  On  the  walls  of  the  shop  I  noticed  a  great  variety  of 
curious  figures,  of  various  sizes,  which  I  afterward  found  to  be 
patch-patterns;  and  they  all  had  significant  meanings. 

"The  little  man  eyed  me  as  I  entered,  and  seemed  to  divine 
my  business,  for  he  began  at  once  to  talk  about  the  shoes  he  had 


92  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

exhibited  in  the  market-place.  He  explained  that,  in  digging 
the  foundation  for  his  shop,  he  had  come  upon  the  shoes,  and 
the  moment  he  touched  them  a  thrill  had  pervaded  his  whole 
body,  and  he  distinctly  heard  a  voice  whisper  in  his  ear, 

'These  are  the  shoes  of  the  Sou  of  God.' 

''From  being  a  bigoted  Jew  he  immediately  became  an  humble 
Christian,  and  since  that  time  he  had  made  daily  efforts  to 
bring  his  fellowman  to  a  knowledge  of  the  tmth,  as  it  is  in 
Jesus  Christ.  He  preached  a  sermon  too  long  to  repeat,  and 
at  its  close  handed  me  the  shoes  for  inspection,  A  more  sudden 
transition  from  storm  to  calm  never  befell  a  tempest-tossed 
mariner  on  entering  the  vortex  of  a  cyclone  than  came  to  me 
the  very  moment  I  took  the  shoes  in  my  hands.  The  terrible 
roar  ceased,  and  for  the  first  time  since  that  awful  day,  over  a 
thousand  years  before,  I  was  at  peace  with  myself  and  all  the 
world.  My  happiness  was  too  great  for  expression;  it  was  the 
joy  of  a  serene  calm,  such  as  I  have  heard  described  by  the 
devotees  of  that  iN'epenthe  draught  which  removes  all  sorrow 
for  the  day.  I  had  no  desire  to  move  or  speak.  Relief  had 
come  so  suddenly  and  so  unexpectedly  that  both  mental  and 
physical  powers  yielded  to  the  intoxication  of  hope  renewed, 
and  for  the  time  being  I  had  no  care  and  no  want.  At  length 
the  little  man  spoke,  and  his  voice  roused  me  from  my  lethargy. 
I  told  him  my  story  and  besought  him  to  let  me  remain  in  his 
house,  where  I  could  have  the  rest  I  so  much  desired.  He 
heartily  sympathized  with  me  in  my  distress,  and  while  my 
story  appeared  incredible  even  to  him,  he  allowed  me  to  join 
him  in  his  work,  and  earn  my  bread  for  a  while  by  honest  toil. 
His  health  becoming  poor,  he  soon  ceased  his  visits  to  the 
market-place,  and  after  I  had  learned  to  make  and  repair  shoes 
by  his  method,  the  business  of  the  shop  gradually  fell  into  my 
hands,  For  many  months  I  lived  in  comparative  peace  with 
this  good  man,  and  I  can  irvlj  say  that  the  time  spent  in  his 
society,  in  doing  his  work  and  in  serving  him  in  his  illness, 
were  the  happiest  moments  of  my  life.  The  shoes  were  a 
never-failing  resource  against  my  infirmity,  and  but  for  the 
needs  of  my  friend,   and  the  exactions   of  business,   I   never 


The  Crazi;  Shoemaker.  93 

"would  again  have  laid  them  doAni.  I  went  to  rest  every  night 
hugging  them  to  my  bosom,  and  kept  them  ever  in  reach  by 
day.  The  mortal  fear  of  losing  them  seized  me  at  times,  and 
deprived  me  of  much  happiness.  I  had  learned  to  worship 
Jesus  through  these  shoes  truly  and  thankfully,  but  it  was  a 
selfish  homage,  and  in  the  end  I  was  repaid  in  gall  and  worm- 
wood. My  friend  and  benefactor  became  weaker  and  more 
feeble  day  by  day,  and  as  his  bodily  powers  failed,  his  mind 
gradually  waned,  until  he  was  little  more  than  a  child.  At 
last  he  died,  and  the  tears  from  a  surcharged  fountain  welled 
to  the  brim,  but  refused  to  flow.  I  consigned  his  dust  to  the 
earth,  his  mother,  and  sat  down  in  the  ashes.  My  grief  was 
genuine ;  I  was  cut  off  from  mankind  again,  and  I  envied,  the 
state  of  my  friend, 

''After  his  death,  the  original  bidding  which  had  driven  me 
forth  for  so  many  years  came  as  a  fiat,  an  ultimatum,  to  menace 
the  mystic  power  of  the  shoes.  It  would  loom  up  in  the  dark- 
ness like  a  giant  specter,  and  mock  the  spirit  of  the  talisman. 
It  assumed  the  shape  and  manner  of  the  unclean  spirit  and 
defied  the  power  of  the  good.  It  became  the  Ahriman  of  Per- 
sian, the  Devil  of  Christian  theology.  It  hovered  around  the 
little  shop  by  day,  and  haunted  my  dreams  at  night.  It  set 
up  a  war  with  the  shoes,  and  chose  my  weary  brain  for  its 
battleground.  It  cast  me  back  into  the  'Slough  of  Despond,' 
from  which  I  had  recently  emerged,  and  blinded  my  faith  with 
the  dusky  film  of  doubt.  I  became  restless  again ;  temptation 
seized  upon  my  spirit,  and  I  began  once  more  to  consult  my 
own  resources.  The  idea  of  a  compromise  at  first  whimsical 
and  faint,  at  length  rooted  itself  in  my  mind.  I  lost  sight  of 
the  fact  that,  'N^o  man  can  serve  two  masters,'  and  in  my  desire 
for  more,  I  lost  what  peace  I  had.  I  would  obey  the  demon, 
but  shield  myself  with  the  shoes..  This  decision  cost  me  all  the 
rest  I  had  gained — sent  me  forth  once  more  as  a  tramp. 

"I  had  learned  the  mysteries  of  the  new  art  of  shoemaking, 
from  my  late  friend  and  master,  and  to  add  insult  to  injury, 
with  an  act  of  blasphemous  ingenuity,  I  determined  to  fit  the 
sacred  sandals  to  my  own  graceless  feet.  This  proved  a  greater 
task  than  I  anticipated.     First,  I  had  to  take  them  in  pieces. 


94  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

then  add  such  parts  as  were  required  to  make  them  fit,  without 
losing  or  altering  any  part  of  the  original.  Every  effort,  not- 
withstanding the  aid  of  the  mould  and  cutting  machine,  failed. 
I  tried  every  conceivable  combination,  and  Avould  often  succeed, 
save  one  little  scrap.  This  scrap  was  invariably  a  portion  of 
the  sandal,  and  I  dared  not  alter  it,  for  fear  of  destroying  its 
A'irtues.  I  labored  faithfully,  with  a  patience  and  skill  worthy 
of  a  better  cause.  I  was  encouraged  by  the  demon  in  this  sacri- 
legious work,  and  promised  exemption  from  my  woes.  I  paid 
homage  to  the  shade  of  Mephistopheles,  that  child  of  Darkness 
and  emissary  of  the  primeval  J^othing,  who  stands  in  his  spirit- 
ual deformity  at  once  potent,  dangerous  and  contemptible.  To 
this  cold,  scoffing,  relentless  fiend,  I  paid  my  vows. 

"I  believed  if  I  could  get  the  combination  I  would  be  safe. 
The  last  mystery  of  the  shoemaker's  art  was  to  be  solved,  and 
this  fallen  archangel — this  Devil,  not  of  superstition,  but  of 
knowledge,  could  solve  it.  To  his  natural,  indelible  deformity 
of  wickedness,  to  his  combination  of  perfect  understanding  with 
perfect  selfishness,  of  logical  life  with  Moral  death  I  erected  an 
altar,  and  here  burned  the  incense  of  my  intellectual  off'ering. 

''The  sacrifice  was  acceptable. 

"On  the  wall  of  the  shop,  among  the  curious  figures  mentioned 
before  as  patch-patterns,  the  problem  was  solved.  My  eyes  were 
ravished  even  as  the  eyes  of  Holofernes  were  ravished  by  the 
sandals  of  Judith.  Yea,  the  fauchion  entered  my  neck — not  of 
steel,  as  in  Holofernes'  case,  but  of  remorse,  as  with  Adam  after 
eating  the  forbidden  fruit.  It  was  an  easy  matter  now  to  finish 
the  work.  The  mould,  the  cutting  machine,  the  patch-patterns, 
the  press  all  worked  in  unison,  and  in  a  few  days  the  shoes  came 
forth  as  you  now  behold  them. 

"It  was  a  joyful  day  in  Pandemonium  when  the  work  was 
finished.  The  fires  of  Gehenna  broke  out  afresh  and  burned 
Avith  a  lurid,  sulphury  flame ;  the  mountains  quaked,  and  the 
heavens  became  dark,  as  on  the  day  of  the  Crucifixion.  The  lit- 
tle shop  trembled  to  its  foundation,  the  press  folded  its  arms, 
and  the  mould  and  cutting  machine  mouldered  away  to  dust. 
The  patch-patterns  were  scattered  to  the  winds,  and  the  demon 
danced  a  horrible  jig  to  the  music  of  'go,  go,  go  on  till  I  return !' 


The  Crasg  Shoemaker.  95 

I  could  stand  it  no  longer.  I  put  the  shoes  on  my  feet  and 
walked  away  in  the  darkness  and  tumult.  I  liave  done  no  more 
work,  I  have  had  no  other  home.  I  am  without  a  friend  in  the 
world." 

The  schoolmaster  went  to  bed  that  night   firmly  convinced 
that  he  had  a  crazy  man  for  his  guest. 


96  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

FREEDOM  AND  NECESSITY. 

Mr.  Eliot  was  an  early  riser ;  he  was  also  in  need  of  a  bath. 
The  story  told  by  his  guest  the  night  before  was  of  such  absorb- 
ing interest  and  consumed  so  much  time,  that,  at  its  close,  both 
felt  the  necessity  of  immediate  retirement. 

After  the  schoolmaster  made  up  his  mind  that  he  was  enter- 
taining a  harmless  lunatic,  he  gave  thanks  to  the  man  who 
invented  sleep,  and  quietly  committed  himself  to  the  god  of 
repose.  His  rest  was  unbroken  and  he  arose  with  the  lark 
completely  refreshed.  His  first  thought  was  the  well,  his  bucket 
and  sponge.  If  cranky  on  any  subject,  it  was  that  of  personal 
cleanliness.  He  often  sponged  his  whole  body  over,  three  times 
a  day  in  summer,  and  after  these  excesses,  I  have  frequently 
heard  him  say  his  skin  felt  as  if  it  was  too  short  for  him.  On 
this  particular  morning  he  enjoyed  to  its  full  fruition  the  lux- 
ury of  which  he  had  been  deprived  so  long.  He  felt  better  after 
it  was  over  and  concluded  he  was  more  "godly"  if  not  more 
"Christian."  After  the  first  salutation  of  his  guest,  he  remem- 
bered an  expression  in  the  narrative  which  forms  the  ground- 
work of  this  chapter,  and  while  he  regarded  the  man  as  being  a 
little  tete-exaltee,  he  was  anxious  to  know  if  his  reasoning  powers 
were  equal  to  his  descriptive. 

Referring  to  the  graphic  memoir  of  the  night  before,  and 
quoting  from  the  Book,  he  said  to  his  companion : 

"  'Prove  all  things ;  hold  fast  that  which  is  good,'  aud,  'Be  ready 
always  to  give  an  answer  to  every  man  that  asketh  you  a  reason 
of  the  hope  that  is  in  yon.' 

"Paul  gave  good  advice  to  the  Thessalonians  when  he  told 
them  to  prove  all  things,  and  Peter  was  certainly  inculcating 
good  manners  when  he  encouraged  all  to  be  ready  with  an  an- 
swer. You  state  in  your  memoir  that  'The  individual  is  actu- 
ated by  his  own  will,  and  may  or  may  not  do  at  his  discretion,' 
and  making  a  personal  matter  of  it,  you  said :  'I  felt  that  my 
sentence  was  just,  that  by  an  act  of  my  own  free  will,  I  had  for- 


Freedom  and  Necessity.  97 

feited  the  iiilieritauce  of  my  Maker.'  Certainly,  you  mean  to  be 
lionest,  and  I  admire  the  manly  spirit  of  assuming  the  responsi- 
bility of  one's  own  acts,  but  under  the  ruling  of  the  Apostle, 
whose  authority  we  will  not  question,  it  seems  to  me  that  you 
have  arrived  at  conclusions  upon  which  a  full  investigation  of 
facts  may  throw  more  or  less  doubt." 

"Do  you  mean  to  intimate,"  said  the  guest,  "that  a  man  is  not 
free  to  do  or  not  to  do — to  act  according  to  the  dictates  of  his 
own  will;  in  other  words,  do  you  question  man's  freedom  and 
doubt  his  responsibility  ?" 

Host. — I  only  mean  to  folloAV  the  injunction  of  Paul  to 
"prove  all  things." 

Guest. — Some  things  neither  require  proof,  nor  are  they  sus- 
ceptible of  demonstration.  The  Apostle  surely  did  not  include 
self-evident  truths  when  he  said  "prove  all  things." 

Host. — It  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  deal  with  axioms ;  the  seven 
wise  men  of  Greece  did  not  venture  to  produce  more  than  one 
apiece. 

Guest. — Moral  freedom  in  man,  though  not  a  necessary  truth, 
as  an  established  principle  is  universally  received,  and  in  that 
sense  becomes  axiomatic. 

Host. — If  not  a  necessary  truth  there  may  be  some  doubt  of 
its  being  a  truth  at  all,  and  in  that  case  it  behooves  us  to  fol- 
low the  injunction  of  the  Apostle. 

Guest. — It  is  not  a  necessary  truth  that  the  sun  will  rise 
to-morrow,  and  according  to  your  philosophy  it  would  become 
us  to  prove  that  it  will  rise  before  accepting  it  as  a  truth. 

Host. — We  accept  it  as  a  truth  that  the  sun  will  rise  to- 
morrow, because  in  our  experience  it  has  always  risen,  and  we 
have  no  cause  to  believe  it  will  cease  to  rise,  therefore,  we  are 
not  justified  in  questioning  the  fact  of  its  rising,  and  need  no 
proof  of  that  fact. 

Guest. — For  the  same  reason  we  accept  it  as  a  truth  that  man 
is  free  to  act  as  he  pleases.  We  have  always  seen  him  act  as  if 
he  was  free,  and  having  no  cause  to  believe  he  will  cease  to  ex- 
ercise his  freedom,  we  are  not  justified  in  questioning  it,  and 
need  no  proof  of  its  truth. 

Host. — To  pit  a  stubborn  fact  against  an  abstraction  is  hardly 
7 


98  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

a  legitimate  mode  of  reasoning  by  analogy.  The  rising  or  non- 
rising  of  the  sun  cannot  be  a  question  of  interest  to  man,  for  its 
rising  is  taken  for  granted,  and  even  to  question  it  would  be  con- 
sidered Quixotic,  but  this  question  of  moral  freedom  is  one  open 
to  much  discussion,  and  the  discussion  is  legitimate  as  bearing 
upon  man's  happiness  here,  and  the  exercise  of  a  rational  faith 
in  regard  to  his  hereafter. 

Guest. — If  facts  and  abstract  ideas  run  counter  to  one  an- 
other, there  must  be  something  weak  in  the  abstraction,  as  all 
truths  blend  harmoniously,  and  where  we  fail  to  recognize  them, 
it  may  be  set  down  as  our  misfortune. 

This  last  sally  put  the  schoolmaster  upon  his  mettle,  for  he 
prided  himself  upon  the  fortress  of  his  noncommittal  dialecti- 
cism;  and,  peering  through  the  shade  of  lunacy  which  his  im- 
agination had  cast  ujDon  his  friend  the  night  before,  he  addressed 
him  as  he  would  the  most  subtle  and  refined  casuist. 

In  his  daily  lectures  to  his  class  he  made  elaborate  argu- 
ments from  the  data  given,  but  he  never  allowed  himself  to 
deliver  a  verdict ;  leaving  that  rather  to  the  judgment  of  his 
students.  In  this  manner  he  approached  the  vexed  question  of 
free  will  in  man,  and  braced  himself  for  the  following  exploita- 
tion : 

^'The  careful  student  of  Nature,"  said  he,  "cannot  have  failed 
to  observe  that  all  creatures  endowed  with  life  are  possessed  of 
many  attributes  in  common ;  in  fact,  the  distinctive  marks  be- 
tween man  and  the  lower  animals  are  much  fewer  than  w^e  might 
at  first  suppose;  and,  if  brought  to  a  crucial  test,  the  dividing 
line  would  be  so  narrowed  as  to  merge  almost  insensibly  one  into 
the  other.  Yet  there  is  a  difference  so  great,  a  chasm  so  broad, 
that  the  theory  of  man's  descent  has  failed  to  bridge  the  gap,  and 
the  intellect  of  a  Darwin,  a  Spencer,  a  Helmholtz  and  even  the 
marvelously  j)ainstaking  studies  of  a  Haeckel,  have  all  con- 
fessed to  a  'missing  link'  in  the  chain  of  cause  and  effect,  Avhich 
shall  attempt  to  bind  man  to  a  common  origin  with  the  brute. 

"Whence  this  line  so  narrow,  yet  so  impassable  ? 

"To  answer  this  question  is  the  easiest  of  all  easy  matters, 
but  to  bring  the  minds  of  others  in  accord — to  convince — re- 
quires proof,  illustration,  argument. 


Freedom  and  Necessity.  99 

"In  dealing  with  the  Problem  of  Human  Life,  philosophers 
have  uniformly  followed  a  line  of  investigation  calculated  to 
baffle  any  inquiry  where  truth  is  the  object  to  be  gained. 

"They  have  studied  man  only  in  his  manhood. 

"With  his  faculties  fully  developed  and  his  body  mature,  the 
task  of  accounting  for  the  varied  phenomena  presented  in  the 
course  of  one  individual  career  is  so  Herculean  in  its  inception, 
so  fraught  with  perplexities  and  difficulties  in  its  execution, 
that  the  keenest  scrutiny  of  the  most  painstaking  observer  is 
eluded,  and  the  protean  forms  of  real  and  apparent  traits  mys- 
tify, and  leave  the  investigator  in  doubt  as  to  what  kind  of  a 
subject  he  has  to  treat.  To  get  a  clear  conception  of  what  man 
really  is  would  seem  to  be  a  priceless  boon,  as  so  large  a  share  of 
human  conduct  is  influenced  by  what  we  think  of  ourselves  and 
our  fellows.  Efforts,  from  the  earliest  dawai  of  history,  have 
been  and  are  still  being  made  in  this  direction,  yet  we  seem  to 
be  as  far  from  the  solution  as  ever.  Whence  the  trouble  ?  How 
is  it  that  the  human  mind  of  all  creation  is  the  least  understood  ? 
Why  do  philosophers  stand  aghast  at  the  results  of  their  owii 
investigations?  Is  reason  unreliable  here  and  reliable  in  all 
things  else?  i^ay,  unperverted  and  supported  by  facts,  it  can 
never  lead  to  error.  It  may  conflict  with  all  the  senses,  desires, 
appetites  and  passions,  yet  it  is  the  beacon  light  which  illumi- 
nates the  path  of  life,  and  dispels  uncertainty  and  doubt.  It  is 
the  image  of  God  in  which  man  was  made,  and  when  we  lay 
aside  our  reason  we  deny  God. 

"To  reason,  then,  we  appeal,  for  this  is  an  invocation  to  the 
God  who  made  us.  But  let  us  make  no  mistake.  While  reason 
is  our  only  reliable  guide,  there  are  circumstances  in  which  it 
may  be  the  direct  means  of  leading  to  error;  for  instance,  rea- 
soning correctly  from  false  premises  must  inevitably  lead  to 
false  conclusions.  How  important  then  it  is  to  set  out  with  cor- 
rect premises ! 

"With  this  view  let  us  approach  this  moot-point,  untram- 
meled  by  hope  or  fear.  Facts,  as  they  are  knowni  to  most  people 
and  can  be  ascertained  by  all,  shall  be  the  groundwork.  If  the 
premises  be  correct  and  the  reasoning  logical,  the  conclusions 
must  be  true. 


100  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"We  perceive  the  brute  creation  endowed  with  all  the  physical 
attributes  of  men.  They  hunger,  thirst,  tire,  sleep,  eat  and 
drink;  have  like  passions,  as  fear,  love,  hatred,  revenge,  filial 
and  parental  aifection,  and  memory.  The  special  senses  are 
more  acute,  as  seeing,  hearing  and  smelling,  but  have  they  the 
power  of  abstract  thought?  Can  we  claim  for  the  horse  an 
intellect,  or  the  elephant  a  moral  sense  ?  However  closely  some 
automatic  actions  of  animals  may  simulate  the  actions  of  men, 
and  appear  to  be  incited  by  previously  arranged  design,  ideas, 
or  reflex  perception  of  objects  after  the  original  perception  or 
impression  has  been  felt  by  the  mind,  cannot  be  reasonably 
claimed  for  the  brute.  In  this  sense  we  speak  of  intellect,  and 
right  here  comes  in  the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  man ; 
first,  understanding,  by  which  he  thinks,  reasons  and  profits  by 
experience,  and  then  all  the  aggregated  qualities  which  make 
such  an  impassable  gulf  between  him  and  the  brute,  such  as 
Morality,  Spirituality,  Keverence,  "Worship,  etc.  Shall  we  look 
upon  all  these  higher  qualities  as  mere  concomitants,  or  shall 
we  view  them  in  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  ?  If  concomi- 
tant merely  in  distinguishment  of  man,  there  can  be  no  good 
reason  why  idiots  should  not  be  endowed  with  those  other  higher 
qualities  which  separate  man  from  the  brute.  Is  such  the  case  ? 
Can  he  perceive  the  beauties  of  love,  charity  or  benevolence? 
Is  he  anywise  more  human  than  the  brute,  except  in  form?  If 
this  view  be  correct,  should  he  be  deprived  of  moral  sense  be- 
cause he  has  not  the  power  to  think?  As  well  might  we  say, 
because  a  man  is  deaf,  he  shall  be  blind  also.  Seeing  and  hear- 
ing are  concomitant  qualities,  neither  one  depending  on  the 
other  for  existence,  but  we  never  see  any  evidence  of  moral 
sense  without  some  power  of  abstract  thought ;  then  are  we 
irresistibly  led  to  conclude  that  the  moral  sense  is  dependent  for 
its  existence  upon  the  intellect.  And  so  with  all  the  other 
higher  qualities  which  distinguish  man  from  the  brute. 

"These  qualities  not  being  manifest  in  proportion  to  the 
greatness  of  the  intellect  need  not  militate  against  the  sequence 
of  cause  and  effect,  but,  forever  being  accompanied  by  the  power 
of  abstract  thought,  it  follows  that  the  one  is  the  cause  of  the 
other,  as  much  as  it  follows  that  the  substance  is  the  cause  of 


Freedom  and  Necessiti^.  101 

the  shadow.  Au  object  may  make  a  Large  or  small  shadow, 
by  virtue  of  its  relation  to  light  without  in  anywise  increasing 
or  diminishing  its  o-ttii  size,  but  if  the  object  bo  removed  alto- 
gether, the  shadow  will  disappear  with  it ;  so,  when  you  deprive 
any  creature  of  intellect,  these  attachments  or  dependencies — 
these  intercurrent  qualifications — so  blindly  relied  upon  for  our 
guidance,  Avill  vanish,  as  the  shadow  vanishes  upon  the  removal 
of  the  object. 

"Taking  these  fundamental  principles  for  the  basis  of  this 
argument,  it  remains  to  be  seen  how,  and  by  what  means  these 
distinguishing  characteristics  should  be  studied,  in  order  to 
arrive  at  the  truth.  By  comparison  and  illustration  we  often 
add  force  to  argument,  and  bring  minds  in  accord  by  citation 
of  facts,  which,  left  to  ponder  over  dogmatic  assertion,  might 
forever  remain  at  variance.  In  this  connection,  the  historical 
facts  of  the  Spanish  invasion  of  Peru  afford  a  striking  illus- 
tration of  the  position  taken. 

"When  Pizarro  sailed  for  the  JN'ew  World  in  1532,  he  took 
Avith  him  some  cavalry  soldiers.  The  Peruvians  had  never  seen 
a  horse,  and  judging  from  appearances,  or  reasoning  from  im- 
pressions received  through  the  sense  of  vision,  came  to  the  erro- 
neous conclusion  that  the  mounted  soldier  and  his  horse  consti- 
tuted one  individual— a  sort  of  multiple  centaur,  or  eolipilic 
dragon — a  mistake  so  fatal  that  by  availing  themselves  of  it, 
the  Spaniards,  with  less  than  180  men,  subjugated  an  empire, 
not  of  barbarians,  but  an  empire  of  men  far  advanced  in  civ- 
ilization. Peru  was  then  the  Sirius  of  native  American  splen- 
dor. Their  monuments  show  what  they  were.  One  of  their 
roads  was  1,500  miles  long  and  about  forty  feet  broad,  and  of 
solid  masonry  over  the  marshes.  Agriculture  had  attained  to 
such  perfection  that  the  mountain  sides  were  terraced,  and  irri- 
gated by  gigantic  canals  and  aqueducts,  on  a  grander  scale  than 
that  of  Egypt;  and  so  great  was  their  industry  that  the  Peru- 
vians had  gardens  and  orchards  above  the  clouds ;  and  on  ranges 
still  higher  flocks  of  llamas,  in  regions  bordering  on  the  limits 
of  perpetual  snow.  In  the  center  of  this  magnificent  realm, 
their  pontiff,  or  high  priest,  lived  in  a  style  of  regal  splendor 
unknown  to  the  monarchies  of  Europe. 


102  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"There  were  enough  more  of  the  Peruvians  to  have  walked 
up  in  a  body,  without  arms,  and  choked  each  Spaniard  to  death 
on  the  spot.  How,  then,  do  we  account  for  this  wholesale 
slaughter  and  subjugation  of  a  nation  by  a  mere  handful  of  an 
enemy  in  no  wise  their  superiors  physically  ? 

"Another  example,  leading  to  the  same  disastrous  result, 
occurring  in  our  own  time,  in  our  own  State,  from  totally 
different  causes,  involving  the  same  psychological  principles, 
and  requiring  the  same  reasoning  for  its  solution.  I  quote 
from  the  New  Yorh  Herald  of  January  3,  1883 : 

"  'WHAT  FRIGHT  CX'E  DO. 

"  'Our  special  dispatch  from  Raleigh  tells  of  an  accident  by  which 
eighteen  men  lost  their  lives,  all  because  of  a  groundless  fright. 
They  saw  a  little  water  in  the  bottom  of  a  boat,  imagined  they  were 
sinking,  and  then  huddled  together  in  such  a  manner  as  would  have 
compelled  the  soundest  boat  of  similar  construction  to  go  down. 
Fright  is  the  greatest  danger  to  which  human  nature  ever  is  sub- 
jected.' 

"In  both  these  examples,  the  action  or  conduct  of  men — in 
the  one  case,  of  a  whole  nation,  in  the  other,  of  a  party  crossing 
a  river — was  the  effect  of  causes  operating  through  sense  im- 
pressions conveyed  to  the  nerve  centers ;  and,  in  the  case  of  the 
Peruvians,  leading  to  a  chain  of  reasoning,  logical  enough  in 
itself,  but  in  the  boating  party  producing  automatic  or  reflex 
actions  in  no  way  connected  with  the  understanding.  The 
reasoning  faculties  of  the  drowned  men  played  no  part  in  the 
tragedy.  The  reasoning  powers  of  the  Peruvians  were  active, 
vigorous  and  logical.  Fright  was  not  the  danger  to  which  they 
were  subjected.  They  had  not  only  never  seen  a  horse,  but  they 
had  never  seen  nor  heard  the  discharge  of  a  firearm.  They 
imagined  the  Spaniards  to  be  a  superior  race,  closely  allied  to 
the  gods.  Their  intuitive  perceptions  misleading,  no  amount  of 
right  reasoning  could  bridge  the  gap,  and  the  fatal  mistake  of 
reasoning  from  false  premises  led  to  their  destruction,  the 
same  as  fright  or  any  other  influence  acting  independently  of 
the  intellect. 


Freedom  and  Necessiti^.  103 

"Josephiis  tells  a  sad  story  of  moral  debasement  in  a  wealthy 
and  beautiful  Roman  lady  from  these  same  influences,  as  it 
Avere,  reasoning  from  false  facts.  No  man  will  be  hardy  enough 
to  claim  that  the  Peruvians  purposely  threw  away  their  lives 
and  their  Country;  no  one  will  accuse  the  boating  party  of  com- 
mitting suicide  deliberately,  by  sinking  their  boat ;  hardly  any 
will  say,  after  reading  the  story,  that  Paulina  lost  her  virtue 
through  moral  turpitude.  How,  then,  do  we  account  for  these 
occurrences  ?  The  pertinent  question  is,  could  they  help  it  ? 
Can  men  help  what  they  do  now?  Follow  the  argument  and 
decide  for  yourself." 


104  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

CHAPTEE  YII. 

FREEDOM  AND  NECESSITY.— Continwed. 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  tlie  traveler,  "I  already  perceive  the 
drift  of  your  discourse.  I  labored  in  that  vineyard  for  many 
dreary,  unhappy  years.  The  fniit  I  raised  was  Dead  Sea 
fruit.  The  wine  press  of  intellectual  pride  can  only  yield  a 
lifeless  and  insipid  juice.  It  yields  not  the  wine  that  maketh 
glad  the  heart  of  man." 

"Our  purpose,"  replied  the  teacher,  "is  to  reason  logically 
from  known  facts,  and  Vhile  the  premises  stand  firm,  it  is 
impossible  to  shape  the  conclusion' ;  therefore,  to  him  who 
would  see  the  end  without  consulting  the  means,  the  problem 
will  remain  unsolved.  !N^o  pet  theory  is  arraigned  here  upon 
trial.  iN'o  force  of  the  advocate  t\^11  be  expended  upon  a  false 
issue ;  no  cross-examination  of  the  witness  to  confuse  the  jury. 
This  inquiry  does  not  seek  to  discover  the  origin  of  man  upon 
the  earth.  Opinionated  conceptions  and  imaginary  'proposi- 
tions, together  with  that  mode  of  reasoning  which  deduces  new 
or  miknown  propositions  from  previous  propositions  which  are 
known  or  evident,  will  be  rigidly  excluded.  Whether  man 
is  an  evolution  in  a  natural  way  from  a  speck  of  protoplasm,  or 
whether  he  is  a  metamorphosed  ape,  or  a  product  of  direct 
manipulation  from  the  hands  of  his  Maker,  will  not  be  dis- 
cussed. The  analysis  will  be  from  facts,  patent  and  demon- 
strable, and  we  shall  endeavor  to  express  our  thoughts  in  intel- 
ligible language,  and  maintain  that  syllogistic  form  of  reason- 
ing which  amounts  to  demonstration. 

"First  of  all,  then,  man  finds  himself  here,  a  substantial 
reality,  confronted  with  himself.  How  he  first  got  here  no 
one  knows,  and  what  he  really  is  has  been  a  stumbling  block 
from  the  remotest  ages.  How  he  gets  here  now  is  well  known, 
and  his  real  status  in  the  world  ought  to  be  kno^^ni.  His  begin- 
ning is  very  small;  a  speck  of  organic  matter  endowed  with 
that  mysterious  principle — life.  Chemical  analysis  has  divided 
it  into  elements  and  found  nothing  but  matter.  Chemical  anal- 
ysis can  find  nothing  more  in  man.  Life  is  a  free  gift  to  every 
individual  on  earth,  and  what  we  know  of  it  is  absolutely  noth- 


Freedom  and  Necessity.  105 

iug,  except  that  we  find  it  in  certain  couibinations  of  matter. 
LTiider  circumstances  favorable  to  man's  reproduction,  this  vital 
force,  in  company  vnth  chemical  combinations,  keeps  the  world 
populated.  Under  adverse  circumstances,  myriads  upon  my- 
riads perish  every  hour  without  any  attempt  to  grow.  Nur- 
tured in  his  mother's  womb,  the  preordained  individual  grows, 
like  anything  else  grows,  by  natural  laws;  and,  at  the  time  of 
maturity,  conies  into  the  world  and  breathes,  and  is  a  live  baby. 
This  is  all  we  know  about  it,  and  this  is  enough  for  us  to  know. 
Let  us  study  this  baby — this  future  man — and  see  what  it  is. 

"Whoever  has  obseiwed  a  new-born  babe  has  seen  a  little  bag 
of  flesh  and  bones,  acted  upon  by  external  influences  and  within 
itself  absolutely  helpless.  Its  heart  beats  and  its  lungs  take  in 
and  throw  out  air.  Its  actions  are  all  involuntaiy.  Its  coun- 
tenance is  a  blank,  and  it  is  many  weeks  before  it  can  even  look 
at  you.  It  comes  into  the  world  Avithout  its  knowledge  or  con- 
sent, and  is  what  it  is  from  sheer  necessity,  so  far  as  it  is  con- 
cerned. One  comes  in  a  hovel,  another  in  a  palace ;  one  is  boni 
a  king,  another  a  slave;  one  black,  another  w^hite;  one  male, 
another  female ;  one  blind,  another  deaf  and  dumb ;  one  is  born 
a  genius,  another  an  idiot ;  one  is  bom  a  Mohammedan,  another 
a  Christian;  one  a  pagan,  another  a  Jew.  And  thus  it  is,  dis- 
criminations are  made  before  birth  in  which  the  individual  has 
no  choice,  and  which  man  in  his  maturity  cannot  circumvent. 
The  baby  is  an  effect  of  causes  outside  of  and  beyond  itself, 
and  as  no  effect  has  the  power  to  change  or  modify  the  cause 
or  causes  which  produced  it,  so  the  human  infant  is  what  it  is, 
and  has  no  power  within  itself  to  be  anything  else.  The  most 
uncompromising  stickler  for  free  will  and  responsibility  in  man 
will  never  so  far  abuse  his  reason  as  to  assert  that  a  new-born 
babe  with  its  first  breath  is  responsible  for  its  own  existence, 
or  has  the  power  to  be  otherwise  than  just  what  it  is.  The 
Hottentot,  bom  under  the  scorching  sun  of  Central  Africa,  or 
the  Eskimo  brat  of  the  frozen  ISTorth,  can  neither,  within  them- 
selves, change  their  relative  positions;  the  one  becoming  heir 
to  the  throne  of  China,  or  the  other  a  pet  of  King  Edward. 
ISTapoleon  Bonaparte  was  virtually  a  cavalry  soldier  in  the  Cor- 
sican  Revolution  before  his  birth.  His  mother  carried  him 
about  in  the  saddle,  following  the  fortunes  of  her  soldier  bus- 


106  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

band,  and  only  went  home  when  the  inevitable  decrees  of  Na- 
ture forced  her  to  her  bed.  Bonaparte  was  born  a  soldier,  as 
much  so  as  a  negro  is  bom  black;  and  he  had  no  more  to  do 
with  it  than  the  African  has  to  do  with  his  birth.  Milton, 
Shakespeare,  Burns,  and  Byron  came  into  the  world  ^vitll  the 
seeds  of  poesv  deeply  implanted  in  their  souls,  and  had  no  more 
to  do  with  the  quality  of  their  brains  than  they  had  to  do  with 
the  color  of  their  skins.  Color,  sex,  time  and  place  of  birth, 
quality  of  brain,  vital  force,  mental  and  physical  peculiarities, 
are  free  gifts  to  every  individual,  like  life,  and  Avhether  we 
are  thankful,  or  feel  as  if  we  are  slighted,  does  not  alter  the 
case.  The  born  slave  may  have  the  seeds  of  freedom  so  deeply 
rooted  in  his  nature  that  in  after  life  he  may  rebel  against 
his  condition,  but  that  does  not  alter  his  position  as  an  infant. 
The  illegitimate  child  may  forever  feel  an  inward  twinge  on 
account  of  his  birth,  but  the  fact  is  unalterable.  These  propo- 
sitions seem  to  be  intuitive,  and  while  they  are  not  susceptible 
of  demonstration,  it  is  to  be  doubted  whether  any  sane  person 
Avill  gainsay  them.  Back,  then,  to  the  infant  with  its  first 
inspiration  of  air.  Let  it  be  a  Jew  or  Gentile,  male  or  female, 
of  whatever  nationality,  it  starts  in  the  world  from  causes  of 
which  it  is  the  effect.  These  causes  have  operated  to  produce 
this  particular  babe  and  no  other.  It  is  endowed  with  qualities 
peculiar  to  itself,  and  surrounded  by  influences  more  or  less 
different  from  that  of  any  other  child.  These  influences  begin 
to  operate  fi'oni  the  moment  of  its  birth,  and  act  as  causes  to 
shape  the  destiny  of  the  future  man.  Spreading  with  each 
day,  and  widening  with  every  year  of  life,  the  branching  out 
of  these  material  and  psychical  influences  operates  in  an  un- 
broken chain  of  cause  and  effect  to  produce  men  as  they  now 
are ;  and,  as  the  circle  widens  and  the  mazes  become  more  puz- 
zling, the  human  mind  is  lost  in  the  entangled  Aveb,  and  having 
no  clue  to  the  windings  of  the  labyrinth,  we  hastily  and  with- 
out reason  afiirm  that  man  is  free.  To  untangle  this  web  is 
the  task  now  before  us.  It  may  appear  presumptuous  in  a 
country  pedagogue  to  attack  a  fortress  which  has  withstood  the 
assaults  of  the  most  powerful  intellectual  batteries  which  the 
world  has  produced,  but  if  you  are  bold  enough  to  think  for 
yourself,  and  your  brain  is  healthy  enough  to  digest  a  hearty 


Freedom  and  Necessity.  107 

meal,  you  will  find  food  here  for  reflection,  and  you  will  honor 
God  and  humanity  by  the  exercise  of  those  faculties  which  the 
All-Father  has  so  freely  bestowed. 

"To  place  ourselves  in  the  position  of  the  infant  being  impos- 
sible, we  can  only  judge  of  its  feelings  by  the  effect  of  its  sur- 
rounding influences  and  the  stimulus  of  the  forces  necessary  to 
continue  its  life.  The  sudden  transition  from  pre-natal  to  post- 
natal life  is,  perhaps,  the  greatest  shock  to  which  the  human 
frame  ever  is  subject-ed.  With  the  first  breath  the  heart  as- 
siunes  new  duties,  the  circulation  of  the  blood  seeks  new  chan- 
nels, and  the  sudden  ciy  is  an  indication  of  the  profound  im- 
pression made  upon  the  nerve  centers  by  the  great  physiological 
change  it  has  undergone.  But  tliis  is  Nature's  method,  and 
nature  is  always  equal  to  her  work.  The  new  state  of  things 
works  harmoniously,  and  perhaps  the  first  urgent  sensation  the 
child  ever  feels  is  that  of  hunger.  It  is  hungry  because  its 
stomach  is  empty,  and  its  supply  of  nutrition  must  henceforth 
come  from  external  sources.  Up  to  now  it  had  been  nourished 
by  the  blood  of  its  mother ;  after  now  it  must  eat  and  drink  for 
itself,  and  make  its  own  blood. 

"Dip  your  hand  into  cold  water  and  suddenly  flirt  it  on  the 
child's  face  or  body,  and  it  will  jump  and  gasp.  This  jump 
is  entirely  involuntary,  and  is  caused  by  what  is  teniied  reflex 
action  of  the  nervous  system.  It  is  common  to  all  animals, 
and  follows  man  through  his  whole  life.  All  the  actions  of  the 
child  for  weeks  and  months  are  reflex,  and  most  of  the  actions 
of  men  come  under  the  same  head,  as  will  be  sho^vn  further  on. 
At  birth,  it  is  doubtful  whether  any  of  the  special  senses  are 
capable  of  receiving  impressions  save  that  of  touch.  Hearing, 
seeing,  smelling  and  even  taste  are  developed  by  degrees,  for 
the  infant  will  suck  anything  placed  in  its  mouth,  and  swallow 
poison  as  readily  as  food.  The  development  of  these  senses  is 
a  matter  of  growth,  like  other  functions,  and  takes  place  earlier 
in  some  children  than  others. 

"Along  with  physical  development  come  those  psychological 
changes,  following  each  other  in  rapid  succession — like  life,  like 
death — many  of  them  evanescent,  some  longer  lived,  and  all 
making  up  the  sum  total  of  human  life.  Here  is  the  beginning 
of   those   complications   which  grow  with   the   growth    of   the 


108  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

child,  and  entangle  themselves  in  such  a  network  of  cause  and 
effect,  that  they  blind  the  understanding,  and  invoke  the  aid 
of  the  passions  to  solve  the  great  enigma  of  life.  When  we 
look  upon  man  as  a  growth,  an  unfolding  of  a  never-ending 
series  of  cause  and  effect,  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is — a  necessary 
consequence  of  inborn,  gratuitous  and  fundamental  elements, 
modified  by  his  individual  surroundings. 

''The  first  awakening  of  the  intellectual  faculties  is  an  in- 
definite point  in  the  evolution  of  man,  and  cannot  be  stated  by 
rule.  No  one  knows  when  the  first  gleam  of  reason  flits  across 
the  inexperienced  brain  of  the  child.  Like  the  budding  of  a 
tree,  or  the  unfolding  of  a  flower,  it  comes  in  time,  and  is  has- 
tened or  retarded  by  the  conditions  of  life  and  surroundings 
of  the  individual.  Up  to  five  years  of  age  the  world  is  a  pano- 
rama of  ever-changing  views,  and  this  period  is  one  continuous 
scene  of  bewilderment.  Having  no  experience,  it  can  have  no 
knowledge,  and  being  without  instinct,  it  is  more  helpless  than 
the  brute.  How?  Why?  What?  is  ever  upon  its  lips,  and 
the  interminable  questionings  of  a  young  child  at  once  betoken 
its  ignorance  and  its  eagerness  for  knowledge.  Incapable  yet 
of  performing  those  higher  functions  of  thought,  the  young 
brain  is  beset  with  strange  and  weird  fancies,  grotesque  and 
shapeless  images,  crowded  pellmell  into  one  chaotic  mass  of 
wonder — the  legitimate  effect  of  novelty  upon  ignorance. 

"Who  is  it  that  does  not  remember  the  futile  efforts  of  his 
own  immature  reason  to  arrange  and  bring  into  proper  adjust- 
ment the  multitude  of  impressions  received  through  external 
sources  ?  Who  that  is  able  now  to  harmonize  and  reconcile  the 
workings  of  that  least  of  all  understood  organs^ — the  brain ! 
Lifetime  imprints  are  indelibly  stamped  upon  the  memory  of 
every  one  during  this  period  of  mental  growth,  and,  in  after 
life,  we  look  back  with  astonishment  and  wonder  at  our  childish 
fancies. 

"The  wonder  ceases  if  we  look  at  the  naked  fact  and  remem- 
ber that  something  cannot  come  from  nothing — that  we  must 
have  something  to  think  with  before  we  can  think.  Probably 
no  greater  error  ever  seized  hold  on  the  helpless  ignorance  of 
childhood  than  my  own  satisfaction  when  I  discoA^ered  the 
cause  of  rumbling  thimder.     It  would  be  ludicrous  and  incred- 


Freedom  and  Necessity.  109 

ible,  if  my  experience  was  not  confirmed  by  liundrecls  of  brighter 
minds  than  my  own.  From  two  outside  impressions,  one 
through  sight  and  the  other  hearing,  I  decided  that  rumbling 
thunder  was  caused  by  rotten  apples  rolling  over  each  other  on 
a  floor  in  the  sky.  From  that  day  to  this,  I  never  hear  low, 
muttering  thunder  in  the  rear  of  a  summer  shower,  but  I  think 
of  rotten  apples.  It  occurred  in  this  way,  and  is  among  my 
earliest  recollections : 

"On  a  sultry  afternoon,  in  the  latter  part  of  summer,  one  of 
those  typical  thunderclouds  loomed  up  in  the  west,  and  rolling 
and  rumbling  like  a  huge,  misshapen  monster,  it  soon  enveloped 
the  whole  heavens  in  its  mantle  of  darkness ;  and,  after  dally- 
ing with  the  fears  of  childish  ignorance  and  creating  a  flutter 
in  the  domestic  household,  it  rolled  away  in  the  distance,  grum- 
bling and  growling  like  a  disappointed  fiend.  Being  naturally 
disposed  toward  the  marvelous,  such  sportings  of  the  elements 
had  a  powerful  effect  upon  my  imagination,  and  the  most  vul- 
nerable point  of  attack  had  been  fear.  Dreading  to  see  more 
than  to  hear  the  breaking  in  of  the  storm,  I  shrank  away  and 
hid  in  the  garret.  Some  apples  had  been  stored  there,  and  my 
feeble  efforts  at  reasoning,  with  my  limited  means  to  reason 
from,  which,  all  told,  amounted  to  the  two  impressions — sight 
of  the  half-decayed  apples  lying  on  the  floor,  and  hearing  the 
distant  peals  of  tlumder  as  the  cloud  went  away — led  to  the 
conclusion  above  stated;  false  though  it  be,  yet  the  logical 
sequence  of  the  premises  taken,  and  the  power  of  the  instru- 
ment or  medium  of  thought.  Could  it  have  been  otherwise? 
Can  I  get  rid  of  that  impression  to-day  by  an  effort  of  the  will  ? 
Why  does  this  phantom,  this  childish  fancy,  haunt  the  mind's 
eye  whenever  I  hear  muttering  thunder?  I  know  now  that 
there  are  no  apples  in  the  sky,  no  floor  for  them  to  roll  upon. 
I  may  have  no  theory  as  to  the  cause  of  thunder.  My  reason- 
ing faculties,  having  gained  strength,  may  remain  in  abeyance 
and  wait,  may  be  open  to  conviction,  tolerant,  patient,  and 
satisfied  never  to  know  the  cause  of  thunder.  Then  it  was  dif- 
ferent. Nothing  would  satisfy  me  but  an  explanation.  Rot- 
ten apples  would  explain  it,  and  now,  even  now  in  my  maturity, 
this  picture,  which  is  a  mere  stain  upon  the  mental  index,  defies 
time,  defies  reason;  obtiiides  itself  on  every  occasion,  and  A^nck- 


110  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

edly  asserts  tliat  rotten  apples  is  the  cause  of  tlmnder.  Au- 
otlier  impression,  no  less  enduring,  came  from  sight  alone. 
The  old  family  Bible  had  a  picture  of  Satan  chained  to  a  ring 
in  the  floor.  Despite  of  reason,  age  and  experience,  whenever 
I  think  of  this  'auld  Hangie,'  his  forked  tail,  cloven  hoof,  and 
dragon's  head  invariably  present  themselves.  This  picture  is 
another  indelible  stain  that  nothing  can  wash  away.  There  is 
no  mystery  here.     The  intellect  of  man  has  solved  the  problem. 

"When  we  remember  that  man,  in  the  scale  of  creation, 
stands  highest  because  of  this  intellect;  and  when  we  look  into 
the  sacred  books  and  find  that  the  whole  Godhead  was  called 
into  requisition  when  his  creation  was  first  contemplated,  we 
need  not  mangel  at  his  capabilities.  And  when  we  find  him 
investigating  himself  with  an  eye  single  to  the  discovery  of 
truth,  and  making  sacrifices  even  of  life  to  gain  knowledge,  we 
honor  the  Maker  by  giving  honor  to  the  image.  And  when  we 
study  this  image  with  the  power  which  God  has  given  us,  unin- 
fluenced by  the  gaudy  trappings  by  which  it  is  surrounded,  we 
approach  the  Throne,  and  see  God  through  the  intellect  of  man. 

"This  mysteiy  is  solved  by  the  laws  which  place  mind  over 
matter.  Fancy  with  her  painted  wings  may  flit  before  the 
steady  gaze  of  reason,  but  she  can  neither  dazzle  nor  mislead. 
The  registering  power  of  mind,  with  the  spectral  gleam  of 
memory,  fills  the  book  of  life  and  frees  the  imagination.  Ro- 
manticism in  religious  speculations  will  pale  in  the  glare  of 
scientific  investigation,  and  man  will,  at  last,  be  freed  from 
fear.  The  possibilities  of  intellectual  achievements  are  scarcely 
dreamed  of  by  the  most  advanced  thinkers,  yet  in  no  depart- 
ment is  more  progress  being  made  than  in  that  of  religious 
thought.  The  time  Avill  come,  and  is  rapidly  approaching, 
when  the  human  image  will  recognize  its  original,  when  the 
true  relationship  between  God  and  man  will  establish  a  divine 
symphony  upon  earth,  when  discord  will  cease  and  the  millen- 
nium will  become  an  established  fact.  But  speculating  on 
future  possibilities  not  coming  within  the  scope  of  this  inquiry, 
we  turn  back  to  the  young  child  and  follow  it,  step  by  step  and 
day  by  day,  seeking  to  know  what  it  is,  stripping  it  of  all  mys- 
tery and  analyzing  the  causes  which  operate  to  produce  such 


Freedom  and  Necessity.  Ill 

complicated  effects.  Having  traced  it  from  its  starting  point — 
a  mere  speck — through  causes  over  which  it  can  have  no  con- 
trol, up  to  its  power  of  receiving  external  iiupressions,  and  hav- 
ing found  it  a  pliable,  unresisting  mass  of  matter,  modeled  and 
moulded  by  forces  external  to  itself,  and  having  found  these 
causes  to  become  more  coiuplicated  with  each  day  of  its  exist- 
ence, we  approach  the  period  when,  without  the  most  steady 
vigilance  and  comprehensive  grasp  of  our  reasoning  powers, 
we  shall  become  bewildered  and  shrink  back  into  the  shadows, 
leaving  the  bright  gleam  of  the  intellect  to  waste  its  rays  in  the 
propagation  of  error. 

"That  period  of  growth  in  which  the  intellectual  faculties 
begin  to  play  a  part  in  the  economy  of  man  is  one  of  peculiar 
interest,  and  if  the  thread  is  broken  here,  Ave  shall  ever  after- 
ward grope  in  the  dark." 


112  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  yill. 

THE    SOUL. 

''However  successful  the  attempt  may  have  been  to  cast 
ridicule  upon  the  modern  theory-  of  evolution,  and  however  harsh 
it  may  sound  to  some  ears,  we  know  that  the  child  is  not  ifhow 
made,  but  grows.  'We  see  the  mind,  the  affections,  the  soul  (if 
you  will)  gradually  arising,  forming,  as  the  body  waxes,  sym- 
pathizing in  all  the  permanent  changes  and  temporary  varia- 
tions of  the  body,  diseased  with  its  diseases,  enfeebled  by  its 
weakness,  disordered  by  dyspepsia  or  suppressed  gout,  utterly 
metamorphosed  past  recognition  by  cerebral  affection,  hopelessly 
deranged  by  a  spicula  of  bone  penetrating  the  brain,  actually 
suppressed  by  a  vascular  effusion  or  a  cranial  depression, 
wearied  as  the  body  ages,  and  gi'adually  sinking  into  imbecility 
as  the  body  dies  away  in  helplessness.'  From  birth  to  five  years 
of  age  includes  a  period  in  wliich  the  void  between  a  mass  of 
helpless  matter,  and  a  sentient,  rational  creature  is  filled.  Some- 
thing by  some  means  has  entered  the  body  that  was  not  there 
before,  or  at  least  did  not  manifest  itself.  This  something  has 
been  in  dispute  from  time  immemorial,  and  is  as  much  an  un- 
settled matter  now  as  ever.  It  is  spoken  of  as  the  Soul,  and 
what  is  exactly  meant,  it  is  difficult  to  determine.  We  are  ac- 
customed to  speak  of  the  soul,  its  immortality,  its  pleasures  and 
pains,  its  residence  in  the  body  during  life  and  its  departure  at 
death.  If  we  look  at  a  stillborn  child  we  have  an  indescrib- 
able sensation  of  work  unperformed — of  negative  result — of 
something  left  out  of  the  contract.  The  idea  of  a  soul  in  any 
way  connected  with  a  child  that  has  never  breathed  is  not  and 
cannot  be  entertained.  How  different  Avhen  we  look  upon  the 
corpse  of  a  friend !  'The  impression  made  is  indefinable,  and 
is  not  the  result  of  any  conscious  process  of  thought  that  that 
body,  quite  unchanged  to  the  eye,  is  not  and  never  was  your 
friend.'  Something  has  departed  which  was  intimately  con- 
nected with  it,  and  which  came  to  it  after  birth.  This,  I  ap- 
prehend, is  the  almost  universal  thought  and  feeling  in  regard 
to  this  vexed  subject.  Here,  as  in  other  matters,  the  shadows 
obscure  the  light,  and  the  anthem  of  hope  robs  a  cold  and  merci- 


The  Soul.  113 

less  philosophy  of  its  truth.  Indeed,  the  force  of  all  appeals 
to  sustain  this  view  is  directed,  not  to  the  understanding,  but 
to  the  subordinate  and  untrustworthy  offshoots  of  the  reason- 
ing faculty.  So  prominently  is  this  set  forth,  even  by  good 
reasoners,  that  I  may  be  pardoned  for  quoting  at  length  from 
the  great  expounder  of  biblical  lore — Adam  Clark.  'Let  us 
figure  to  ourselves,  for  we  may  innocently  do  it,  the  state  of 
the  divine  nature  previous  to  the  fonnation  of  the  human  be- 
ing. Infinitely  happy,  because  infinitely  perfect  and  self-suffi- 
cient, the  Supreme  Being  could  feel  no  wants;  to  him  noth- 
ing was  wanting,  nothing  needful.  As  the  "good  man  is  satis- 
fied from  himself,"  from  the  contemplation  of  his  conscious 
rectitude;  so,  comparing  infinitely  great  with  small  things,  the 
divine  mind  was  supremely  satisfied  with  the  possession  and 
contemplation  of  its  own  unlimited  excellencies.  From  un- 
mixed, unsullied  goodness  sprang  all  the  endlessly  varied  at- 
tributes, perfections,  and  excellencies  of  the  divine  nature;  or, 
rather,  in  this  principle  all  are  founded,  and  of  this  eacb  is 
an  especial  modification.  Benevolence  is,  however,  an  affection 
inseparable  from  goodness.  God,  the  all-sufficient,  knew  that 
he  could,  in  a  certain  way,  communicate  influences  from  his 
own  perfections ;  but  the  being  must  resemble  himself  to  whom 
this  communication  could  be  made.  His  benevolence,  therefore, 
to  communicate  and  diffuse  his  own  infinite  happiness,  we  may 
naturally  suppose,  led  him  to  form  the  purpose  of  creating  in- 
telligent beings  to  whom  such  communications  could  be  made. 
He,  therefore,  in  the  exuberance  of  his  eternal  goodness,  pro- 
jected the  creation  of  man,  whom  he  formed  in  his  own  image, 
that  he  might  be  capable  of  those  communications.  Here,  then, 
was  a  motive  worthy  of  eternal  goodness,  the  desire  to  com- 
municate its  own  blessedness;  and  here  was  an  object  worthy 
of  the  divine  wisdom  and  power,  the  making  an  intelligent 
creature  a  transcript  of  his  own  eternity,  just  less  than  God; 
and  endowing  him  with  powers  and  faculties  of  the  most  ex- 
traordinary and  comprehensive  nature.  I  do  not  found  these 
observations  on  the  supposition  of  certain  excellencies  possessed 
by  man  previous  to  his  fall ;  I  found  them  on  what  he  is  now. 
I  found  them  on  his  vast  and  comprehensive  understanding; 


1 14  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

on  liis  astonisliing  powers  of  ratiocination ;  on  the  extent  and 
endless  variety  of  his  imagination  or  inventive  faculty ;  and  I 
see  the  proof  and  exercise  of  these  in  his  invention  of  arts  and 
sciences.  Though  fallen  from  God,  naturally  degraded  and  de- 
praved, he  has  not  lost  his  natural  powers ;  he  is  yet  capable 
of  the  most  exalted  degrees  of  knowledge  in  all  natural  things ; 
and  his  "knowledge  is  power."  Let  us  take  a  cursory  view  of 
what  he  has  done  and  of  what  he  is  capable:  He  has  numbered 
the  stars  of  heaven;  he  has  demonstrated  the  planetary  revo- 
lutions and  the  laws  by  which  they  are  governed;  he  has  ac- 
counted for  every  apparent  anomaly  in  the  various  affections 
of  the  heavenly  bodies;  he  has  measured  their  distances,  de- 
termined their  solid  contents,  and  weighed  the  sun!  His  re- 
searches in  the  three  kingdoms  of  nature,  the  animal,  the  vege- 
table, and  the  mineral,  are,  for  their  variety,  correctness,  and 
importance  of  the  highest  consideration.  The  laws  of  matter, 
of  organized  and  unorganized  beings,  and  those  chemical  prin- 
ciples by  which  all  the  operations  of  nature  are  conducted, 
have  been  investigated  by  him  Avith  the  utmost  success.  He 
has  shown  the  father  of  the  rain,  and  who  has  begotten  the 
drops  of  dew;  he  has  accounted  for  the  formation  of  the  snow, 
the  hailstones,  and  the  ice ;  and  demonstrated  the  laAvs  by  which 
the  tempest  and  tornado  are  governed ;  he  has  taken  the  thun- 
der from  the  clouds;  and  he  plays  with  the  lightnings  of 
heaven !  He  has  invented  those  grand  subsidiaries  of  life,  the 
lever,  the  screw,  the  wedge,  the  inclined  plane  and  the  pul- 
ley: and  by  these  means  multiplied  his  power  beyond  concep- 
tion ;  he  has  invented  the  telescope,  and  by  this  instrument 
has  brought  the  hosts  of  heaven  almost  into  contact  Avith  the 
earth.  By  his  engines  he  has  acquired  a  sort  of  omnipotency 
over  inert  matter,  and  produced  effects  w^hicli,  to  the  unin- 
structed  mind,  present  all  the  appearances  of  supernatural 
agency.  By  his  mental  energy  he  has  sprung  up  into  illimitable 
space  and  has  seen  and  described  those  worlds  which  an  in- 
finite skill  has  planned,  and  an  infinite  benevolence  sustains. 
He  has  proceeded  to  all  describable  and  assignable  limits,  and 
has  conceived  the  most  astonishing  relations  and  affections  of 
space,  place,  and  vacuity;  and  yet,  at  all  these  limits,  he  has 
felt  himself  unlimited;  and  still  can  imagine  the  possibility  of 


The  Soul.  115 

worlds  and  beings,  natural  and  intellectual,  in  endless  variety 
beyond  the  whole.  Here  is  a  most  extraordinary  power;  de- 
scribe all  known  or  conjectured  beings,  and  he  can  imagine 
more;  point  out  all  the  good  that  even  God  has  promised,  and 
he  can  desire  still  greater  enjoyments.  Of  no  creature  but 
man  is  it  said  that  it  was  made  in  the  image  and  likeness  of 
God.  Now,  as  the  divine  Being  is  infinite,  he  is  neither  limited 
by  parts  nor  definable  by  passions ;  therefore  he  can  have  no 
corporeal  image  after  which  he  made  the  body  of  man.  The 
image  and  likeness  must  be  intellectual;  his  mind,  his  soul, 
must  have  been  formed  after  the  nature  and  perfections  of  his 
God.  The  human  mind  is  still  endowed  with  most  extraor- 
dinary capacities ;  it  was  more  so  when  issuing  out  of  the 
hands  of  its  creator.  The  text  tells  us  he  was  the  work  of 
Eloliim,  the  divine  plurality,  marked  here  more  distinctly  by 
the  plural  nouns  Us  and  Our;  and,  to  show  that  he  was  the 
masterpiece  of  God's  creation,  all  the  persons  in  the  Godhead 
are  represented  as  united  in  council  and  effort  to  produce  this 
astonishing  creature.' 

"This  beautiful  tribute  to  the  greatness  of  the  human  un- 
derstanding, by  a  profound  thinker  and  honest  seeker  after 
truth,  only  illustrates  the  mazes  into  which  the  reasoning  facul- 
ties become  entangled. by  studying  man  in  his  maturity,  and  de- 
ducing conclusions  from  assumed  postulates.  The  language  of 
the  text  itself  is  faulty,  and,  'well  is  it  for  us  if  we  always  re- 
member the  difference  between  what  is  said  and  what  is  meant, 
and  if,  while  we  pity  the  heathen  for  worshiping  stocks  and 
stones,  we  are  not  ourselves  kneeling  down  before  the  frail  im- 
ages of  human  fancy.'* 

"God,  in  fact,  in  its  true  sense,  is  a  word  which  admits  of 
no  plural,  and  changes  its  meaning  as  soon  as  it  assumes  the 
teraiination  of  that  number. f 

"The  EJohim,  under  the  ruling  of  this  Christian  philologist, 
would  revert  to  the  mythical.  If  language  is  thus  misleading, 
how  are  we  to  know  Avhat  the  sacred  volume  really  teaches? 
Is  it  not  better  to  trust  to  our  own  rational  conclusions  than 
to  gorge  ourselves  with  the  helpless  jargon  of  unknown  tongues? 


*Muller.    Science  of  Language,  Vol.  II,  page  465. 
\lbid.,  page  438. 


116  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"]^ow,  of  any  soul  that  is  a  distinct  and  separate  entity,  apart 
from  tlie  conscious  mental  and  spiritual  life;  a  soul  that  a  man 
has,  and  that  can  be  saved,  apart  from  his  mental  and  moral 
condition,  according  to  the  teachings  of  the  popular  revivalists ; 
a  soul  that  is  in  a  man  and  yet  not  simply  and  wholly  him- 
self— of  such  a  soul  I  must  confess  that  I  know  nothing  Avhat- 
ever.  And  if  any  one  is  disposed  to  be  troubled  on  this  point 
in  connection  with  evolution,  perhaps  it  is  well  to  remind  him 
that  he  will  find  no  relief  in  Genesis.  Moses  knows  nothing  of 
any  such  soul.  The  Hebrew  word  for  the  soul  of  Adam,  and 
for  the  souls,  or  life,  of  the  animals  is  precisely  the  same.  When 
it  is  written  'The  Elohim  breathed  into  his  nostrils  and  he  be- 
came a  living  soul,'  it  would  be  just  as  correct  to  say,  'He  be- 
came alive,  or  a  living  being  or  animal.'  There  is  no  hint 
that  his  soul  was  any  different  from  that  of  any  other  creature's 
soul.  This  does  not  touch  the  question  of  the  nature  of  the 
soul  or  of  inunortality ;  it  only  shows  that  there  is  no  more 
light  in  Genesis  than  there  is  in  evolution.  JSTow,  if  the  soul 
is  an  entity,  and  capable  of  independent  life  after  death — in 
other  words,  if  it  be  immortal — it  either  had  a  beginning  or  it 
existed  always.  If  it  is  a  creation,  if  there  ever  was  a  time 
when  it  did  not  exist,  then  it  must  eventually  come  to  an  end. 
That  Avhieh  has  a  beginning  must  have  an  ending.  It  is  im- 
possible for  the  human  mind  to  conceive  of  an  eternity  in  the 
future  that  is  not  an  eternity  in  the  past.  And  all  Scripture 
bears  witness  to  the  human  intellect  that  the  whole  creation 
will  eventually  come  to  an  end.  Philosophy  and  the  Scriptures 
both  teach  that  the  creation  is  finished,  and  the  multitudinous 
forms  in  Avhich  matter  is  seen  is  only  a  manifestation  of  the 
endless  variety  of  change  that  indestructible  material  is  for- 
ever assuming.  We  know  that  in  the  birth  of  a  human  being 
there  is  no  creation  of  a  new  body;  it  is  only  old  matter  in  a 
new  dress,  and  if  the  soul  is  a  separate  entity,  created  especially 
for  each  birth,  there  must  be  a  period  in  life  when  the  soul 
enters  the  body;  and  if  each  body  has  a  new  soul  created 
especially  for  its  habitation,  then,  when  the  body  dies  the  soul 
is  homeless.  But  if  the  soul  has  existed  from  all  eternity, 
its  residence  in  the  body  gives  us  no  remembrance  of  the  fact, 
and  logically  speaking  Ave  can  have  no  knowledge  of  its  future 


The  Soul.  117 

existence.  If  it  be  an  emanation  from  God,  it  must  go  back  to 
God  at  the  dissolution  of  the  body,  and  personal  identity  is  lost 
again.  To  separate  mind  from  matter  and  still  recognize  its 
existence  is  an  impossible  task,  a  thing  of  which  there  is  no 
satisfactoiy  evidence.  Pope  Leo  the  Tenth  caused  this  ques- 
tion to  be  discussed  pro  and  con,  before  him,  and  concluded  at 
last  with  that  verse  of  Cornelius  Gallus,  'Et  redit  in  nihilum, 
quod  fiiit  ante  nihil.'  " 

The  pious  itinerant  listened  to  the  long  discourse  of  his 
host  with  mingled  feelings  of  sadness  and  impatience.  He 
could  see  the  workings  of  an  honest  mind  in  the  throes  of  an 
abortive  labor  and  he  felt  a  pang  of  melancholy  as  he  con- 
templated the  recusancy  of  intellectual  pride.  He  saw  in  the 
person  before  him  one,  not  wilfully  blind,  but  with  eyes,  and 
seeing  not;  and  having  ears,  hearing  not.  The  emotions,  the 
passions,  sentiment ;  the  affections,  both  moral  and  sympathetic ; 
love,  hope,  despair,  and  all  the  endless  branches,  leaves  and 
blossoms  of  the  stately,  time-honored,  majestic  tree  of  life  had 
been  crushed  and  buried  under  the  iron  heel  of  reason.  Here 
was  an  intellectual  machine  pure  and  simple.  The  manhood 
had  been  squeezed  out  of  the  man,  and  all  that  remained  was  a 
mummified  burlesque  of  the  original.  To  contend  with  such 
a  man  was  like  working  a  sum  in  quadratic  equations;  but 
the  traveler  invoked  the  aid  of  St.  Peter,  and  girded  up  the 
loins  of  his  mind  for  the  contest. 

"To  such  an  one  as  yourself,"  he  replied,  "the  reasoning 
faculty  is  the  sum  total  of  value  in  the  complicated  fittings  of 
that  multifarious  organ — the  mind.  You  utterly  ignore  the 
value  of  those  others  which  you  call  'dependents,'  'subordinate 
and  untrustworthy  offshoots  of  the  reasoning  faculty';  'gaudy 
trappings  by  which  it  is  surrounded,'  etc.  This,  of  course, 
includes  the  emotions,  the  moral  and  religious  faculties, 
personal  and  sympathetic  affections,  and  love.  You  would 
strip  the  tree  of  branches,  leaves,  blossoms  and  fruit.  You 
would  destroy  that  which  God  has  made  and  substitute  an 
intellectual  monster — a  cold,  heartless,  calculating  machine,  de- 
void of  soul,  and  call  it  a  man.  Be  fair.  Go  back  and  acknowl- 
edge the  premises.  Build  your  argument  upon  all  the  facts. 
Take  love,  for  instance,  and  analyze  and  explain  its  workings. 


118  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

The  German  mind,  Avitli  all  its  infidel  tendencies,  lias  paused 
here  and  asked  for  more  light.  It  is  unable  to  make  a  mechani- 
cal solution  of  the  wonders  of  this  passion.  Haeckel,  even, 
who  denies  the  existence  of  God,  is  at  a  loss  to  account  for  love. 
His  theory  of  the  universe  fails  to  satisfy  him  of  its  origin  and 
scope.  He  says :  ^A\\  other  passions  that  agitate  the  human 
breast  are  in  their  combined  effects  far  less  powerful  than  love, 
which  inflames  the  senses  and  fools  the  understanding.  On  the 
one  hand,  we  gratefully  glorify  love  as  the  source  of  the  most 
splendid  creations  of  art ;  of  the  noblest  productions  of  poetry, 
of  plastic  art  and  of  music ;  we  reverence  in  it  the  most  power- 
ful factor  in  human  civilization,  the  basis  of  family  life,  and, 
consequently,  of  the  development  of  the  state.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  fear  in  it  the  devouring  flame  which  drives  the  unfor- 
tunate to  ruin,  and  which  has  caused  more  misery,  vice,  and. 
crime  than  all  the  other  evils  of  the  human  race  together.' 

"He  says  that  here,  'supernatural  causation  seems  to  mock 
every  natural  exj^lanation.'  And  you,  in  your  blind  zeal,  would 
expunge  this  power  from  the  human  breast.  Subject  it  to  the 
frozen  midnight  of  reason,  and  ask  it  whence,  and  whither?  Is 
there  any  reason  in  protecting  the  aged  and  the  infirm?  Are 
the  hopelessly  insane  fed,  clothed,  and  nursed  from  any  deduc- 
tions of  the  reasoning  faculty?  Why  should  we  shelter  and 
cherish  the  imbecile,  the  deaf,  dumb,  and  the  blind  ?  Why  give 
to  the  poor?  Are  the  great  public  charities  of  every  civilized 
country  the  outcome  of  logic  ?  Is  reason  the  image  of  God  in 
man,  or  is  it  love  ?  The  Bible  says,  'God  is  love,'  but  it  nowhere 
says.  He  is  reason.  Of  course,  your  not  recognizing  the  Bible 
as  authority,  this  statement  will  count  for  little,  but  you  cannot 
doubt  that  this  passion  has  as  great  an  influence  over  human 
conduct  as  reason;  and,  were  it  left  to  a  vote  of  the  Avhole  hu- 
man race,  I  question  very  much  whether  love  or  reason  would 
be  voted  out.  As  to  the  importance  of  the  two  in  regard  to  the 
continuance  of  the  human  race,  there  can  be  but  one  answer. 
Man  might  continue  upon  the  earth  without  reason,  but,  without 
love,  the  present  generation  would  be  the  last.  As  an  affection 
of  the  soul,  this  passion  is  one  of  the  most,  if  not  the  most  im- 
portant factor  in  that  manifold  creation;  and  instead  of  being 
subsidiary  to  reason,  as  you  would  place  it,  reason  is  more  often 
the  servitor  of  love. 


The  Soul  119 

"Your  criticism  of  Dr.  Clark  in  the  quotation  you  make  is 
more  unjust  than  unkind.  While  you  ignore  every  faculty  of 
the  soul  except  the  thinking  principle,  Dr.  Clark,  in  his  beauti- 
ful thoughts  on  God  and  man,  combines  in  the  happiest  man- 
ner the  three  most  essential  qualities  of  an  intellectual  being; 
and,  allowing  each  to  play  its  legitimate  part,  brings  the  finite 
into  view  with  the  infinite,  and  truly  honors  God  by  giving 
honor  to  the  image.  Reason,  Imagination,  and  Love  combined 
are  the  faculties  which  place  man  so  far  above  the  brute.  As  the 
hub,  spokes,  and  rim  make  the  wheel,  so  these  three  faculties 
form  the  soul ;  all  being  equally  essential  to  its  completion. 
Dr.  Clark's  tribute  to  the  greatness  of  the  human  understand- 
ing is  simply  a  recognition  of  the  soul  in  its  entirety,  and  any 
attempt  to  grasp  its  substance  is  as  futile  as  it  is  absurd.  To 
deny  its  existence  because  of  our  inability  to  bottle  it  up,  or 
hold  it  in  the  hand,  is  on  a  par  with  the  denial  of  electricity, 
the  sun's  rays,  or  the  flame  from  a  gas  jet.  Imponderable,  im- 
material substances  exist  with  as  much  certainty  as  iron  or 
stone. 

"The  phenomenology  of  mind  is  the  only  mental  science  we 
may  study.  Its  essence,  its  substance  is  too  ethereal  for  our 
senses,  yet  its  phenomena  prove  its  substance,  as  phenomena 
can  no  more  proceed  from  phenomena  than  hybrids  can  pro- 
ceed from  hybrids.  There  is  no  conflict  here  between  science 
and  religion,  and  rightly  understood,  philosophy  and  the  word 
of  God  must  go  hand  in  hand ;  the  first  being  only  an  under- 
standing and  interpretation  of  the  laws  of  the  universe,  the  lat- 
ter an  averment  of  those  laws.  The  existence  of  ideas  alone, 
taught  in  the  philosophy  of  dogmatic  skepticism,  proves  that  a 
spiritual  universe  does  exist,  and  in  this  universe  the  soul  of 
man  has  a  place. 

"If  Dr.  Clark's  elaboration  of  biblical  theology  is  a  mere  jar- 
gon of  Avords ;  if  evolution  be  true  and  the  fall  of  man  a  myth ; 
if  mind,  spirit,  soul,  be  stricken  from  the  language  of  thought, 
or  rather  be  defined  as  a  John  Doe  or  Richard  Roe,  then  Ve 
are  of  all  men  the  most  miserable.' 

"Man  is  not  what  God  made  him.  "Were  the  Scriptures  silent 
on  the  subject,  all  reason  and  common  sense  would  at  once  de- 
clare that  it  is  impossible  that  the  infinitely  perfect  God  could 


120  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

make  a  morally  imperfect,  much,  less  a  corrupt  and  sinful  being. 
Yet  God  is  the  maker  of  man,  and  he  tells  us  that  he  made  him 
in  his  own  image  and  in  his  own  likeness ;  it  follows,  then,  that 
man  has  fallen  from  that  state  of  holiness  and  perfection  in 
which  he  was  created." 


Phenomena.  121 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PHENOMENA, 

The  old  schoolmaster  was  not  only  astonished  at  the  ready 
wit  and  logical  argument  of  his  guest,  but  he  was  pleased  to 
observe  the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  entered  into  and  main- 
tained the  defense  of  his  position.  With  the  view  of  drawing 
him  out  still  further,  and  also  to  maintain  his  own  ground,  he 
replied  as  follows : 

"The  same  difficulties  present  themselves  and  lead  to  subter- 
fuges incompatible  with  philosophical  inquiry,  whenever  con- 
clusions are  attempted  to  be  drawn  from  assumed  postulates. 

"A  recapitulation  here  may  be  of  service  in  elucidating  the 
untenable  position  you  have  taken.  In  the  first  place,  you 
assume  that  God,  by  an  act  of  creation,  brought  the  world  into 
existence,  with  all  the  trees  and  plants  and  animals,  and  saw 
that  his  work  was  good ;  and  in  the  plenitude  of  his  power,  and 
the  infinite  benevolence  of  his  own  eternal  goodness,  he  formed 
the  purpose  of  creating  intelligent  beings  to  whom  he  might 
communicate  his  own  happiness.  JSTotwithstanding  his  attri- 
butes of  infinity  as  regards  power  and  wisdom,  he  is  represented, 
alone,  as  hardly  able  to  accomplish  his  self-appointed  task;  but 
in  a  council  of  the  'Divine  Plurality,'  whatever  that  may  be, 
this  masterpiece  of  his  work — this  astonishing  creature,  man — 
was  made,  and  made  in  his  o\\m  image  and  likeness,  a  transcript 
of  his  own  eternity.  If  man  is  not  what  God  made  him,  and 
not  what  God  intended  him  to  be,  it  argues  incompetency  on 
the  part  of  God,  and  notwithstanding  the  deliberations  of  the 
Triune  Council,  in  which  the  entire  Godhead  is  represented  as 
exhausted,  the  work  became  one  of  surprise  and  chagrin,  more 
than  was  anticipated;  in  a  certain  sense  on  an  equality  with 
its  Maker  and  capable  of  thwarting  and  nullifying  his  designs. 
In  Mrs.  Shelley's  uncanny  romance,  the  horrible  monster  of 
her  imagination  crops  out  as  an  exaggerated  parody  on  the  first 
and  second  chapters  of  Genesis." 

ISTo  words  of  scoffing,  no  speech  of  blasphemy  could  have  ex- 
cited a  keener  pang  in  the  breast  of  our  unhappy  traveler  than  a 
comparison  of  all  that  is  loathsome — the  horrid  remnants  of  the 


122  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

churchyard  and  dissecting-room,  the  Frankenstein  monster  of 
a  morbid  and  diseased  imagination — to  the  perfect  work  of 
God,  the  creation  of  man.  While  this  man  of  thought,  of 
worldly  wisdom,  of  intellectual  pride ;  this  octogenarian  with 
one  foot  in  the  grave,  who  had  studied  every  page  of  the  great 
book  of  nature,  and  arrived  at  conclusions  at  variance  with  the 
religious  world,  thought  nothing  of  his  inelegant  adumbration, 
his  companion  was  mortified,  shocked ;  stunned  as  with  the 
blow  of  a  cudgel.  His  spiritual  nature  revolted  at  the  coarse- 
ness of  the  simile,  but  remembering  that  every  faculty  of  the 
soul,  save  reason,  was  excluded  from  this  conversation,  he 
checked  his  emotions  and  proceeded  with  his  reply  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner : 

"It  appears  that  the  difficulties  in  your  way  of  comprehend- 
ing immaterial  forces  are  as  real  and  as  blinding  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  truth  as  it  is  for  you  to  understand  the  difference 
between  the  vacillating  opinions  of  men  and  the  written  word 
of  God.  A  phenomenon  can  only  exist  or  become  manifest,  as 
the  result  of  substance.  A  shadow  is  a  phenomenon  caused  by 
light  and  an  opaque  object.  Growth,  in  the  animal  and  vege- 
table kingdoms,  is  a  phenomenon  of  material  substances.  Physi- 
cal pain  is  also  a  phenomenon  of  matter ;  but  mental  pain ! 
what  is  that  ?  Material  substance  is  the  cause  of  toothache,  but 
can  material  substance  cause  remorse  of  conscience?  One  is  as 
much  a  phenomenon  as  the  other,  and  may  be  equally  as  griev- 
ous. If  substance  and  phenomena  stand  in  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect,  how  are  we  to  account  for  phenomena  in  no  way 
connected  with  matter?  Good,  evil,  right,  wrong,  love,  hate, 
revenge,  forgiveness,  affection,  gratitude,  etc.,  being  mere  ab- 
stractions, can  only  be  classed  with  phenomena,  and,  having 
no  relation  with  matter,  must  necessarily  be  the  phenomena  of 
something  besides  matter.  Electricity  is,  perhaps,  no  more  an 
entity  than  the  soul  of  man,  but  the  phenomena  of  electricity 
attest  its  substance.  We  have  the  same  right  to  believe  that  an 
immaterial  principle  or  soul  exists  in  the  human  body  as  we  have 
to  believe  in  the  law  of  gravitation  or  the  forces  of  chemical 
affinity.  The  evidences  in  favor  of  all  are  precisely  the  same — 
effects  produced.  There  is  this  difference,  however,  between 
these  forces  of  nature  and  the  force  that  operates  on  the  human 


Phenomena.  1 23 

organism :  tlie  first  operates  always  in  the  same  way,  under  the 
same  circumstances,  while  the  last  acts  of  its  own  accord,  being 
influenced  only  by  its  OAvn  will.  This  is  what  made  it  possible 
for  man  to  take  a  step  backwards  and  swerve  from  the  line  of 
duty  marked  out  by  his  Creator.  This  by  no  means  invalidates 
the  power  of  God,  but  rather  exalts  his  omnipotency,  showing 
that  he  had  the  power  to  create  something  like  unto  himself. 
In  order  to  show  to  man  that  this  delegated  power  of  free 
agency  was  a  free  gift  to  himself,  the  Creator  placed  him  in  the 
world  under  certain  restrictions.  ISTo  command  was  given  him 
but  what  he  was  perfectly  able  to  keep.  Yet  God  gave  him  the 
power  to  break  the  law,  which  he  did  to  the  ruin  of  himself  and 
all  his  posterity.  The  fall  was  no  disappointment  to  God,  but 
so  utterly  confused  was  man  at  his  own  folly  that  he  attempted 
to  hide,  and  excused  himself  by  saying  he  was  tempted.  For 
this  act  of  disobedience  the  whole  human  race  was  cursed,  the 
ground  was  cursed,  and  every  living  thing  on  earth  was  cursed, 
and  the  curse  stands  to  this  day  a  living  witness  to  the  truth  of 
the  "Word.  'In  sorrow  shalt  thou  bring  forth  children'  was  said 
to  the  woman,  and  if  there  was  no  other  evidence  to  prove  the 
truth  of  the  fall  and  the  curse,  this  is  sufficient ;  for  science  is 
utterly  inadequate  to  explain  the  pains  of  childbirth.  For  a 
healthy  female  in  a  perfectly  normal  process  to  be  tortured  with 
the  excruciating  miseries  of  the  damned  is  inexplicable,  except 
upon  the  theory  of  the  fall.  ISTo  other  physiological  process  is 
attended  with  pain,  and  this  pain  can  be  of  no  possible  advan- 
tage to  the  parturient  female. 

"The  most  ultra  skeptic  cannot  doubt  that  God  (or  the  forces 
of  Nature,  if  he  prefers  it)  could  have  made  the  act  of  parturi- 
tion painless,  like  digestion  or  the  beating  of  the  heart.  For 
all  other  pains  to  which  the  animal  economy  is  subject  there  is 
an  adequate  cause,  a  justifiable  and  pathological  reason;  for 
this  pain  science  is  a  sealed  book;  physiology  is  dumb  and 
pathology  has  no  answer.  There  is  no  other  reason  under 
heaven  given,  save  that  in  Genesis,  and  that  man  must  be  blind, 
indeed,  who  refuses  the  only  answer  to  a  known  fact.  That 
this  curse  extends  to  the  lower  animals  is  evident  for  the  same 
reason.  No  one  who  ever  witnessed  the  throes  of  labor  in  the 
brute  can  doubt  that  it  is  accompanied  with  pain.     The  pun- 


124  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

ishment  of  infants  is  another  inexplicable  fact  upon  scientific 
grounds  alone.  That  much  of  the  pain,  sickness  and  misery 
attached  to  the  nursery  is  the  result  of  carelessness  and  igno- 
rance no  rational  observer  can  doubt ;  but  no  known  law,  or 
violation  of  a  known  law  of  nature,  can  account  for  idiots, 
monsters,  and  the  maimed.  Accident  cannot  come  into  the 
count ;  chance  is  outside  the  pale  of  both  science  and  theology. 
The  law  of  hereditary  transmission  does  not  account  for  all  the 
anomalies  in  nature,  and,  as  you  base  your  philosophy  and 
theology  upon  facts,  it  behooves  you  to  account  for  these  and 
many  other  inexplicable  things  before  you  attach  the  stigma  of 
falsehood  to  what  a  large  part  of  the  religious  w^orld  believes 
to  be  the  written  word  of  God." 

Mr.  Eliot  was  never  more  in  his  element  than  when  teach- 
ing, and  the  more  learned  his  pupil,  the  more  interest  he  felt  in 
the  lesson.  On  this  occasion  he  began  to  perceive  a  gleam  of 
light  w^ay  in  the  background  of  Dogmatic  Theology,  which  he 
had  long  looked  upon  as  a  land  of  Cimmerian  darkness.  The 
boom  of  a  signal  in  the  depths,  faint,  yet  distinct,  fell  upon  his 
ear,  as  this  mysterious  stranger  presented  his  facts  and  asked 
for  explanations.  A  spiritual  universe,  shadowy  and  tenuous, 
began  to  flit  in  his  mental  atmosphere,  and  but  for  the  aliena- 
tion incident  to  the  teachings  of  men  who  make  religion  a  trade, 
this  filament  of  spiritual  truth  might  have  developed  into  a 
cable  of  hope,  "Which  hope  we  have  as  an  anchor  of  the  soul, 
both  sure  and  steadfast."  Instead,  however,  of  pursuing  this 
signal,  and  following  the  luminous  ray,  he  cast  about  for  a 
"bushel"  that  he  might  hide  what  he  termed  a  "candle  of  marsh 
gas." 

"Your  reasoning,"  said  he,  "is  too  much  in  a  circle,  and  pay- 
ing rather  a  domiciliary  visit  to  the  material  philosophy,  it 
savors  more  of  quiddities  than  dialectics.  I  am  a  great  be- 
liever in  the  material  universe.  /  am  a  part  of  it.  There  may 
be  a  spiritual  universe ;  I  do  not  deny  it,  but  I  know  nothing 
of  it !  There  is  electricity,  but  I  know  it  not  except  in  some 
way  connected  with  matter.  There  is  thought,  there  is  truth, 
love,  hate,  revenge,  affection,  memory,  even  dreams ;  but  these 
must  be  matter  in  the  shape  of  an  organized  entity,  or  they  do 
not  exist. 


Phenomena.  1 25 

"The  theologian  harasses  himself  and  all  the  world  by  his 
empty,  miprovable  theories — his  vaporizings;  sets  up  his  dogmas 
to-day  and  changes  them  or  knocks  them  down  to-morrow; 
yet  whilst  he  holds  them,  he  is  ready  to  burn  or  ostracize  any 
and  all  men  who  do  not  assent  to  them.  The  student  of  the 
Big  Bible,  the  universe,  with  its  pages  spread  open  for  the  study 
and  research  of  all,  can  demonstrate  as  he  goes,  and  that  which 
he  cannot  yet  understand  and  prove,  he  refuses  to  promulgate 
and  demand  of  others  to  take  for  granted  because  he  might 
simply  think,  hope,  and  believe  so  and  so.  The  invisible  and 
incorporeal  forces,  light,  sound,  electricity,  attraction,  repul- 
sion, etc.,  manifest  themselves  only  in  connection  with  material 
substance,  and  it  is  not  susceptible  of  proof  that  these  names 
indicate  anything  material  or  immaterial  separate  and  distinct 
from  the  substances  with  which  they  are  connected.  Without 
an  eye  there  is  no  light,  without  the  ear  no  sound,  without  mat- 
ter no  attraction,  and  without  the  conditions  for  its  generation 
and  accumulation,  no  manifestation  of  electricity.  If  mind, 
spirit,  soul  is  to  be  compared  with  these  forces,  the  logical 
sequence  is  irresistible — without  a  body,  no  spirit,  no  soul. 
Every  attempt  at  reasoning  carries  you  irresistibly  to  the  Pan- 
theistic view,  which  supposes  the  human  soul  to  be  a  part  of 
the  Deity,  and  I  am  not  certain  but  that  the  Christian  Bible 
teaches  the  same  thing  where  it  says : 

"  'Then  shall  the  dnst  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was :  and  the  spirit 
shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it.' 

"  'Twas  despair  and  disgust  Avhich  prompted  Pope  Leo  the 
Tenth  to  dismiss  his  prelates  with  such  biting  sarcasm,  after 
hearing  their  discussion  on  this  overwrought  and  ill-treated  sub- 
ject. 'Tis  with  kindred  feelings  of  emptiness  that  the  intel- 
lectual world,  at  this  day,  seeks  a  new  philosophy.  The  human 
mind  is  so  constituted  as  not  to  be  satisfied  with  hopes  alone, 
nor  to  be  hopelessly  crushed  by  fear.  The  popular  teachings 
are  little  else  than  appeals  to  these  two  passions.  Much  is  said 
in  the  pulpit  and  at  religious  meetings  about  the  soul — of  its 
pleasures,  its  pains,  and  its  destiny.  Ask  one  of  the  popular 
revivalists  what  the  soul  is,  and  his  answer  will  be  as  unsatis- 
factory as  his  own  conception  of  it. 


126  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"If  we  take  a  juicy  peach  and  ask  where  it  got  its  flavor,  or 
a  full-blown  rose  and  ask  whence  its  odor,  or,  if  we  look  upon 
the  fragrance  of  the  rose  as  something  which  has  come  from 
afar  off  and  gotten  into  the  rose,  or  upon  the  flavor  of  the  peach 
as  an  entity  which  bj  some  unaccountable  means  has  come  to 
the  peach  and  incorporated  itself  in  its  substance,  we  shall  rea- 
son about  as  satisfactorily  as  when  we  attempt  to  separate  the 
soul  from  the  body.  If  a  green  peach  has  any  flavor  it  is  like 
the  latent  heat  of  a  lump  of  ice,  and  while  the  judgment  of  all 
men  will  agree  that  the  ripening  of  the  peach  is  the  cause  of  its 
flavor,  the  proof  can  never  be  else  than  negative.  The  flavor 
may  be  something  independent  of  the  peach,  and  merely  seeking 
the  peach  for  its  temporary  home,  to  manifest  itself  for  the 
benefit  of  whatever  animal  that  chances  to  smell  or  eat  it.  When 
the  peach  decays  or  is  eaten  the  flavor  is  gone,  but  we  cannot 
by  any  process  of  ratiocination  prove  that  it  is  annihilated. 
Immaterial  things  can  only  be  studied  from  their  manifesta- 
tions, and  anything  beyond  is  purely  imaginary  and  gratuitous. 
If  the  stillborn  child  ever  had  a  soul,  the  human  mind  is  too 
dull  to  conceive  of  it;  if  the  new-born  babe,  an  hour  or  a  day 
old,  has  a  soul,  we  cannot  perceive  it  unless  we  call  its  breath 
soul,  and  in  that  case  reason  would  resort  to  ridicule,  and 
shame  the  faith  of  a  believer  in  witches.  The  vague  concep- 
tions in  regard  to  this  all-important  matter  may  be  traced  to 
the  same  causes  which  we  find  operating  to  delude  the  senses 
in  studying  man's  physical  nature.  We  study  the  soul  in  its 
maturity  and  hardly  admit  its  existence  until  its  environment 
becomes  so  inextricably  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  cause  and 
effect  that  we  lose  the  substance  in  the  twilight  of  the  shadows. 
When  the  peach  begins  to  ripen  it  begins  to  have  a  flavor,  when 
the  child  begins  to  grow  it  begins  to  have  a  soul,  i.  e.,  we  begin 
to  see  a  manifestation  of  it.  IS^ow,  as  the  soul  Avaxes  with  the 
body,  we  will  go  back  to  the  infant  at  its  mother's  breast  and 
watch  its  development  from  babyhood  to  boyhood.  As  was  pre- 
viously stated,  this  period  is  one  continuous  scene  of  bewilder- 
ment. It  is  a  new  life  in  a  new  world,  surrounded  by  neAV  ob- 
jects, and  without  capacity  to  form  any  ideas  of  what  it  sees, 
feels,  or  hears.  It  is  as  much  a  thing  of  necessity  so  far  as  it  is 
concerned  as  a  sprouted  seed  in  a  rich  or  poor  soil.    Its  mother's 


Phenomena.  127 

breast,  a  warm  cradle,  soap  and  water,  colic  and  paregoric  are 
about  the  principal  things  it  comes  in  contact  with  for  the  first 
year  of  its  existence. 

"It  is  influenced  solely  by  its  surroundings,  and  its  first  ideas 
are  formed  from  materials  which  are  so  imperfect  and  untrue 
that  it  has  to  unlearn  nearly  all  it  ever  learns  in  the  first  years 
of  life.  jN^ursery  tales  and  ghost  stories  form  the  principal 
food  upon  which  its  brain  is  fed,  and  the  imagination  is  culti- 
vated out  of  all  proportion  to  any  other  faculty  of  the  mind. 
These  baleful  influences  operating  upon  a  sensitive  and  plastic 
nature  leave  their  imprints,  and  enter  the  list  of  causes  to  make 
men  and  women  what  they  are.  The  young  child  being  without 
experience,  and  its  tender  and  immature  brain  being  too  feeble 
to  form  ideas,  except  of  the  simplest  kind,  it  must  needs  be  the 
sport  of  its  surroundings  and  the  projectile,  as  it  were,  of  its 
own  vitality  and  inborn  essence.  This  vis  vitw  of  each  one  im- 
pels it  forward  in  a  different  track  from  that  of  its  neighbor, 
though  the  external  conditions  of  life  be  the  same;  and  thus  it 
is  we  see  such  a  difference  in  children  of  the  same  parentage. 
One  will  be  neat  and  tidy  from  the  beginning,  another  slovenly. 
One  will  be  all  life  and  vivacity,  another  morose  or  taciturn. 
One  will  be  the  soul  of  honor  and  truth,  another  will  not  hesi- 
tate to  prevaricate  or  speak  an  untruth.  One  will  be  prodigal, 
another  penurious,  one  tender-hearted,  another  brutish,  and  so 
on.  These  inborn  qualities  are  the  result  of  causes  which,  if 
we  undertake  to  trace  them  to  their  source,  we  shall  never  be 
able  to  stop  this  side  of  eternity.  Every  child  born  into  the 
world  is  the  offspring  of  some  other  child  that  has  lived  before 
it,  and  it  would  be  a  matter  of  impossibility  for  it  to  be  here 
now  if  it  had  not  descended  by  an  unbroken  chain  of  life 
through  all  the  generations  of  the  earth  since  the  first  pair  was 
created.  Before  we  conclude  that  any  child  can  be  other  than 
just  what  it  is,  we  shall  have  to  give  it  power  to  undo  the 
mighty  workings  of  this  universe,  blot  out  the  past,  and  sup- 
plant God." 


128  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  X. 

RESPONSIBILITY. 

The  impression  made  on  the  schoolmaster's  guest  by  this  last 
sally  in  defense  of  the  material  philosophy  was  not  only  un- 
pleasant, but  exceedingly  troublous.  He  disliked  to  think  the 
issue  was  unfairly  met,  and  was  unwilling  to  admit  that  his 
friend  had  purposely  evaded  what  he  considered  a  very  knotty 
point  for  the  skeptical  philosopher;  still  he  felt  disposed  to 
remind  him  again  of  those  phenomena  incident  to  life  on  the 
earth,  which  it  is  impossible  to  associate  with  any  form  of  mat- 
ter in  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  And  with  the  view  of 
bringing  him  back  to  the  point  which  he  considered  most  diffi- 
cult of  solution,  he  declared  that : 

"We  are  so  constituted  that  we  rely  on  the  uniformity  of 
nature's  laws,  and,  therefore,  believe  that  they  will  operate  in 
the  future  as  they  have  operated  in  the  past.  This  constitu- 
tional propensity  is  wisely  given,  fitting  us  to  shape  our  course 
in  the  world;  and,  for  all  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  given, 
it  does  not  deceive  us,  but  there  are  limits  within  which  the 
propensity  must  be  restrained.  A  child  asks  the  cause  of  some- 
thing which  he  notices,  and  when  we  have  answered,  he  asks, 
^What  is  the  cause  of  that?'  and  when,  in  answering  his  suc- 
cessive inquiries,  we  have  led  his  mind  up  to  God  as  a  First 
Cause,  he  asks,  'Who  made  God?'  we  may  very  wisely  tell  him 
that  God  is  self -existent ;  but  this  means  nothing  more  than 
that  his  inquisitive  philosophy  must  stop  here,  having  reached 
its  utmost  boimds.  Now,  whether  we  can  metaphysically  ac- 
count for  it  or  not,  there  is  a  propensity  in  the  human  mind 
to  regard  each  moral  agent  as  a  sort  of  original  source  of  action, 
somewhat  as  we  conceive  of  God.  This  propensity,  pei'haps  as 
universal  as  the  propensity  to  rely  on  the  uniformity  of  na- 
ture's laws,  may  have  been  given  us  for  the  very  purpose  of 
checking  our  philosophy  when  it  would  presume  to  explain  the 
origin  of  evil  in  the  heart  of  a  moral  agent.  Accustomed,  as  it 
is,  to  contemplate  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  operating  in 
an  established  order  of  sequence,  it  does  not  submit  to  consider 


Responsibility.  129 

man  an  original  source  of  action,  but  labors  to  account  for  the 
moral  evil  in  him  by  causes  operating  from  without,  and  ulti- 
mately traces  it  to  God. 

"It  may  be  well  to  inquire  whether  philosophy,  when  it 
pushes  the  doctrine  of  necessity  into  the  inmost  Arcana  of  this 
subject,  does  not  assume  in  the  premises  from  which  it  reasons 
that  there  is  a  natural  inertia  in  mind,  as  in  matter;  or,  rather, 
a  sort  of  natural  immutability.  A  chemical  experiment  oper- 
ates now  precisely  as  it  would  have  done  before  the  flood,  be- 
cause every  atom  of  matter  has  precisely  the  same  properties 
now  that  it  had  then.  Matter  has  a  natural  immutability;  but 
can  this  be  predicated  of  mind?  And  does  not  philosophy 
assume  it  when  it  applies  the  doctrine  of  necessity  to  mental 
phenomena  without  any  limitation,  and  boldly  carries  back  the 
authorship  of  sin  to  God  as  the  First  Cause?  There  is  a  ten- 
dency in  the  human  mind  to  a  fixed  state  of  virtue  or  vice,  by 
the  power  of  habit;  but  a  natural  immutability  of  the  mind, 
anterior  to  the  formation  of  habits,  philosophy  ought  not  to 
assume.  Matter,  in  each  atom,  is  immutable ;  and  it  is  mutable 
only  in  its  combinations.  The  mind  of  man,  though  an  uncom- 
pounded  essence,  is  not  immutable.  God  has  made  matter  im- 
mutable, or  operates  immutably  in  matter.  But  if  he  has  not 
chosen  to  operate  in  the  same  manner  in  mind,  but  has  made 
each  mind,  in  some  sort,  an  original  source  of  action,  philosophy 
must  submit  to  push  her  orders  of  sequence  with  confidence 
only  where  she  has  firm  ground  to  stand  on. 

"Your  explanation,  or,  rather,  your  evasion  of  an  explana- 
tion of  phenomena  which  are  patent  to  all  men  does  you  an 
injustice.  You  say,  'There  may  be  a  spiritual  universe ;  I  do 
not  deny  it,  but  I  know  nothing  of  it.'  At  the  same  time  you 
are  a  great  believer  in  the  material  universe,  and  assert  that 
you  are  a  part  of  it.  Now,  do  you  really  know  anything  of 
matter?  Do  you  know  that  you  yourself  exist?  Dogmatic 
skepticism  asserts  that  nothing  exists  but  ideas.  All  else,  it 
says,  may  be  delusion.  It  knows  nothing  of  any  material  uni- 
verse ;  it  knows  nothing  of  matter,  spirit,  or  phenomena.  It  is 
the  only  real  agnostic.  Do  you  know  that  an  atom  of  oxygen 
exists?    No,  you  only  believe  it,  and  your  belief  is  well  founded 

9 


130  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

because  it  is  based  upon  logical  induction.  You  see  results  of 
chemical  combinations  that  force  you  to  believe  in  the  exist- 
ence of  an  atom  of  oxygen.  You  believe  that  the  different 
combinations  of  these  atoms  form  the  different  oxides. 

''Your  reason  forces  you  to  this  belief.  Very  Avell !  You 
see,  also,  combinations  in  the  operations  of  men  which  Ave  may 
term,  for  the  sake  of  illustration,  spiritual  oxides.  Matter  never 
combines  itself  in  a  way  to  produce  artificial  results.  These 
artificial  results — man's  works — are  the  spiritual  oxides  of  this 
world.  We  see  them  in  all  the  operations  of  men,  and  we  see 
them  in  the  operations  of  animals,  of  birds,  and  of  insects. 
Something  is  behind  matter  that  is  not  matter,  when  matter 
combines  itself  in  the  form  of  railroads,  steamboats,  houses  to 
live  in,  clothes  to  wear,  and  food  prepared  to  eat.  Something 
is  behind  matter,  also,  that  is  not  matter,  when  it  combines  it- 
self in  the  shape  of  the  honeycomb,  the  bird's  nest,  and  the  ant- 
hill. ISTow,  here  are  the  results  of  a  spiritual  chemistry,  as 
patent  and  as  demonstrable  as  that  oxide  of  iron  is  the  result 
of  a  material  chemistry.  The  atom  of  oxygen  is  in  this  iron 
rust,  and  the  atom  of  spirit  is  in  those  houses,  these  railroads, 
and  these  ant-hills.  You  have  seen  the  one  just  as  much  as  you 
have  seen  the  other.  The  evidence  for  the  one  is  precisely  the 
same  as  the  evidence  for  the  other.  You  believe  in  the  one, 
and  while  you  don't  deny  the  other,  you  say  that  you  know  noth- 
ing of  it.  Strange,  incongruous  inconsistency !  Where  is  your 
boasted  power  of  induction  and  deduction  ?  Is  philosophy  un- 
worthy of  her  rank  when  she  conies  in  contact  vdth  religion  ? 
Be  fair,  as  I  said  to  you  once  before.  Take  all  the  facts,  all 
the  combinations,  and  go  back  with  your  credulity  and  your 
skepticism.  Find  the  atom  of  spirit  as  you  find  the  atom  of 
matter.  Believe  from  evidence,  and  let  your  faith  be  directed 
by  reason." 

''My  dear  friend,"  replied  the  teacher,  "you  run  ahead  of  the 
argument.  You  would  clothe  the  man  while  I  wash  the  baby. 
You  go  up  by  the  elevator  and  deny  that  the  house  has  stairs. 
Philosophical  tnith  must  be  sought  as  we  find  the  result  in 
mathematics.  Deducing  unknoAvn  truths  from  principles  al- 
ready known  amounts  to  demonstration.  We  started  at  the  very 
beginning  of  life,  and  we  have  followed  the  child  through  its 


Responsibiliti^.  131 

purely  animal  life,  to  where  it  lias  become  a  sentient,  intelligent 
being.  It  lias  passed  from  childhood;  and  before  entering 
into  the  details  of  boyhood,  it  may  be  as  well  to  make  some 
observations  in  respect  to  knowledge  or  truth,  and  the  differ- 
ent means  of  obtaining  it. 

"The  greatest  bulk  of  our  knowledge  is  acquired  through  the 
perceptive  faculties.  Until  the  understanding  begins  to  ripen 
and  the  reasoning  powers  begin  to  mature,  our  knowledge  is 
simply  an  accumulation  or  storing  away  of  impressions  received 
through  the  organs  of  sense.  The  ultimate  truth  of  many  of 
these  impressions  is  never  doubted.  They  seem  to  be  axiomatic 
or  self-evident;  thus,  two  and  two  are  equal  to  four;  anything 
round  is  not  square ;  yellowness  is  not  sweetness ;  fire  and  water 
are  not  alike,  and  so  on,  in  a  thousand  instances.  This  kind  of 
knowledge  is  obtained  mostly  by  experience  and  the  instruction 
of  others;  and  while  it  is  subject  to  the  imperfection  of  our 
bodily  organs,  and  only  partially  reliable,  it  is  the  foundation 
on  which  the  reasoning  powers  build  and  erect  those  monu- 
ments of  truth  which  hold  through  all  time.  If  the  senses 
were  never  deceived,  the  judgment  would  never  go  astray;  but 
in  accumulating  this  storehouse  of  primary  knowledge,  error 
creeps  in  Avith  truth,  and  the  mixing  is  so  intimate  that,  how- 
ever logically  reason  may  set  forth  her  claims,  the  end  is  often- 
times false.  Indeed,  the  stricter  the  logic,  the  greater  the  devi- 
ation from  truth  when  the  premises  are  not  well  founded. 
Eight  here  is  the  point  of  deflection  between  minds  of  equal 
capacity  in  search  of  truth  which  is  out  of  reach  of  the  senses. 
Earnest  men  contend  over  questions  of  abstract  truth,  without 
considering  the  real  point  of  difference,  which  more  often  lies 
in  their  primary  conceptions,  or  the  error  which  deludes  their 
imperfect  organs  of  sense. 

"The  subject  of  free  will  in  man  is  one  of  those  mystical  de- 
lusions which,  like  the  mirage  of  the  desert,  leads  its  votaries 
on,  blinding  with  desire  and  tempting  with  hope,  until  the 
weary  traveler,  despairing  and  exhausted,  lies  down  m  the 
sand  to  die.  Solomon,  with  all  his  wisdom,  aided  by  the  power 
of  inspiration,  could  never  wholly  divest  himself  of  the  blinding 
influence  of  emotion;  could  never  calmly  review  the  past,  nor 
contemplate  the  future  without  a  wail;   could  not  be  content 


132  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

with  the  ordinances  of  inexorable  necessity  and  sip  nectar  from 
the  rich  storehouse  of  his  knowledge;  hnt  as  the  veil  of  natural 
infinnities  began  to  darken  and  blur  the  brilliant  hues  of  a 
glory  resplendent  in  its  zenith,  we  hear  him  complaining  that, 

"  'In  much  wisdom  is  mucli  grief,  and  he  that  iiicreaseth  Iviiowl- 
edge,  increaseth  sorrow.' 

"Knowledge  of  the  truth  ought  never  to  increase  sorrow,  for 
Grod  is  knowledge  and  truth ;  and  Solomon  in  the  bitterness  of 
his  anguish  must  have  reasoned  illogically  from  cause  to  effect, 
or  have  attempted  to  arrive  at  truth  from  a  foundation  of  false- 
hood. The  end  in  view  which  this  discussion  is  intended  to 
illustrate  can  no  more  come  within  the  range  of  the  bodily 
organs  than  that  the  perceptive  faculties  can  make  manifest 
the  spherical  shape  of  the  earth.  Premises  which  no  man  will 
deny,  and  from  which  reason  will  make  her  deductions,  are  the 
means  to  an  end  which,  cavil  as  you  may,  can  never  be  other 
than  tnith. 

"If  the  assertion  that,  'Living  matter  cannot  come  from  not 
living  matter'  be  true,  how  is  it  possible  for  responsibility  to 
proceed  from  that  which  is  not  responsible?  Babyhood  being 
father  to  boyhood,  and  babyhood,  by  common  consent  and  by 
demonstration,  being  a  state  of  irresponsibility,  at  what  particu- 
lar time  and  by  what  mode  does  responsibility  attach  itself  to 
boyhood?  Responsibility  implies  will  power,  and  something 
more;  it  implies  power  to  do,  or  not  to  do,  at  the  discretion  of 
the  individual.  Power  to  do  or  not  to  do  implies  freedom  of 
the  will,  but  it  by  no  means  implies  responsibility.  God  has 
power  to  do  or  not  to  do  and  perfect  freedom  of  wall,  yet  he 
is  not  responsible.  Infants  and  brutes  have  will  power,  but 
the  common  sense  of  mankind,  as  well  as  the  law  of  the  land, 
attaches  responsibility  to  neither.  Now,  if  the  boy  has  a  free 
will  and  is  responsible,  and  the  baby  has  not  a  free  will  and  is 
not  responsible,  this  emancipation  of  the  will  must  have  taken 
place  at  some  particular  moment  between  infancy  and  youth. 
Acting  upon  this  mistaken  idea,  legislators,  in  the  poverty  of 
their  resources,  have  made  it  arbitrary.  The  law  of  some 
States  makes  seven  years  the  age  of  responsibility.  Blackstone 
quotes  the  ancient  Saxon  law  as  establishing  twelve  years  as 


Responsibiliti;.  133 

tlie  age  of  possible  discretion,  and  by  tbe  present  Englisli  law 
as  it  now  stands,  and  has  stood  at  least  ever  since  the  time  of 
Edward  the  Third,  the  capacity  of  doing  ill,  or  contracting 
guilt,  is  not  so  much  measured  by  years  and  days  as  by  the 
strength  of  the  delinquent's  understanding  and  judgment;  and 
yet  he  says : 

"  'Under  seven  years  of  age,  indeed,  an  infant  cannot  be  gnilty  of 
felony,  for  a  felonious  discretion  is  almost  an  impossibility  in  nature; 
but  at  eight  years  old  be  may  be  guilty  of  felony.' 

"With  this  arbitrary  ruling  the  abstract  truth  involved  will 
resolve  itself  into  the  following  termination :  A  bright  boy 
is  seven  years  old  to-day  at  noon.  This  morning  he  was  irre- 
sponsible; this  afternoon  he  is  responsible.  This  morning  his 
will  was  under  the  dominion  of  the  causes  which  produced  it; 
this  evening  the  fetters  of  cause  and  effect  have  been  loosed, 
and  the  will,  untrammeled  and  free,  is  no  longer  an  effect,  no 
longer  subject  to  the  laws  of  universal  dominion,  but  in  a  mo- 
ment, in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  it  becomes  an  independent 
entity,  subject  to  no  law  and  responsible  to  no  power.* 

"This  is  logic.  Man  may  be  better  than  logic,  but  neverthe- 
less this  is  logic.  It  is  man,  principle  and  end  of  truth,  as  it 
is  man,  principle  and  end  of  creation. 

"The  complications  which  invest  legal  procedure,  and  the 
judicial  paradoxes  involved  in  the  settlement  of  causes  attest 
the  unsoundness  of  the  structure  upon  which  the  system  is 
based.  Salient  truths  cropping  out  in  the  evolution  of  every 
judicial  investigation  of  importance  rebound  with  such  force 
upon  the  arbitrary  dicta  of  the  lawmakers,  that,  to  maintain  the 
appearance  of  consistency,  jurors  are  granted  the  same  arbi- 
trary power;  and  it  is  left  to  the  vacillating  and  capricious 
judgment  of  man  to  punish  or  condone  crime. 

"If  the  criminal  be  young — if  he  is  not  past  the  age  of  possi- 
ble discretion  as  laid  down  by  the  law — his  crime  is  not  recog- 
nized; and  oftentimes  when  his  guilt  appears  clear,  the  influ- 
ence of  perverted  feeling  prevents  the  execution  of  a  sentence 
which  is  jiist,  and  the  law  is  a  dead  letter. 


*A  gradual  evolution  of  responsibility  cannot  be  admitted,  for  that  would  imply 
an  evolution  of  punishment— a  manifest  impossibility.  The  boy  is  either  responsible 
or  he  is  not  responsible,  and  punishment  is  based  upon  this  hypothesis,  and  not 
upon  any  idea  of  growth  or  gradual  assumption  of  responsibility. 


134  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

''If  the  unfortunate  criminal  should  happen  to  be  forty  years 
old,  we  often  see  a  chain  of  active  forces  in  operation  to  punish 
without  regard  to  law  or  justice.  His  prosecutors,  urged  by 
revenge  or  cupidity,  exert  themselves  to  their  utmost,  and  the 
law,  to  maintain  its  dignity  and  to  let  the  poor  criminal  know 
that  he  might  have  acted  differently — to  let  him  know  that  his 
will  was  free  to  do  or  not  do — pronounces  a  sentence  which 
involves  life,  and  a  crime  is  committed — judicial,  it  is  true,  but 
nevertheless  a  crime.  The  law  assumes  a  right  which  it  with- 
holds from  its  subjects.  It  assumes  the  prerogative  of  a  self- 
constituted  power  w^hose  code  of  ethics  is  miglit.  It  would  ar- 
rogate to  itself  the  peculiar  privilege  of  infinite  power,  directed 
by  the  finite  wisdom  of  man.  It  violates  the  golden  rule  in 
its  every-day  workings,  and  is  capricious  and  uncertain  to  that 
extent  that  men  are  ever  busy  in  efforts  to  circumvent  and 
evade  its  action. 

"These  observations  are  neither  made  to  censure  nor  uphold 
the  wisdom  of  legislation,  for  the  exigencies  of  civil  life  re- 
quire many  factitious  ordinances  which  men  in  their  moral 
and  intellectual  feebleness  are  constrained  to  tolerate.  The 
question  at  issue  being  one  of  fact,  they  serve  to  illustrate  the 
contradictions. 

"If  evolution  of  responsibility  be  an  untenable  doctrine,  noth- 
ing is  left  but  to  admit  a  sudden,  momentary  change  from  neces- 
sity to  freedom — from  irresponsibility  to  responsibility.  If 
this  be  a  fact,  the  time  is  definite,  instantaneous,  and  ought 
to  be  determined.  If  evolution  be  admitted,  then  it  necessitates 
a  germ  from  which  to  evolve  the  responsibility,  and  this  gQYva 
would  entail  the  same  upon  the  infant  and  even  the  foetus. 
Now,  the  facts  and  arguments  in  our  analysis  of  Infancy 
w^ould  seem  to  clear  the  little  fellow's  skirts  of  all  this  rubbish, 
and  we  are  only  left  the  pitiful  subterfuge  of  claiming  an  effect 
without  a  cause — of  creating  something  out  of  nothing — of 
working  a  diabolical  miracle  at  some  moment  in  the  life  of  every 
boy  to  make  it  possible  to  damn  the  future  man.  Nothing 
else  can  be  made  of  it.  Human  reason  will  not  admit  of  so 
vile  a  prostitution  as  annihilation  before  God,  and  a  cringing 
sei-\ility  at  the  shrine  of  Mockery  and  Chance." 


Secondarp  Causes.  135 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SECONDARY   CAUSES. 

The  impression  of  sorrow  and  compassion  already  made 
upon  our  friend  was  augmented  into  anguish  by  tins  last  out- 
burst of  blind  homage  to  the  powers  of  human  reason.  He  had 
a  thousand  argiunents  ready,  a  dowry  of  facts  at  command;  he 
had  words  of  truth  and  soberness — a  vocabulary  as  varied  as 
his  own  experience  wherewithal  to  meet  the  issue,  but  he  felt 
cramped.  The  hatches  of  this  iron-clad  were  closed;  appeals 
were  useless,  prayers  insulting.  A  bold  front  on  the  same 
line  being  his  only  resource,  he  answered  with  a  tinge  of  asper- 
ity :  ''Sir,  the  evolving  germ  is  there.  The  little  fellow's 
skirts  are  not  cleared  by  a  rift  of  rhetoric  nor  a  bold  assertion. 
Your  argument  is  ad  hominem.  Evolution  is  true  to  the  ex- 
tent of  transmitting  from  parent  to  offspring.  The  sin  of 
Adam  is  upon  us  now.  Responsibility  in  man  is  the  developed 
seed,  the  evolved  genu  of  Infancy. 

"  'Be  not  deceived ;  God  is  uot  mocked,  for  whatsoever  a  mau 
soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reu}).' 

"You  are  sowing  to  the  wind,  and  I  fear  the  harvest.  Fain 
would  I  give  you  a  helping  hand,  but  what  does  it  avail  ?  You 
are  bound  to  your  idols,  and  you  will  not  listen  to  their  re- 
proaches. I  have  several  times  called  your  attention  to  facts 
as  indisputable  as  any  from  which  you  draw  your  inferences. 
You  seem  to  think  that  a  cause  once  set  in  motion  never  ceases 
to  act.  Your  argument  would  tend  to  ignore  secondary  causes, 
and  make  man's  pursuit  of  happiness  a  chase  after  a  phantom. 
Let  me  illustrate :  A  horse  kicks  you  on  the  leg  and  breaks 
it.  A  long  train  of  symptoms  follow:  pain,  lameness,  loss  of 
time,  loss  of  money,  et  cetera.  The  first  cause  of  all  these  ef- 
fects lasted  but  one  second  of  time,  a  momentary  contact  of 
the  horse's  hoof  with  the  bone  of  your  leg.  You  summon  a 
surgeon.  He  finds  you  in  pain,  and  asks  for  a  history.  You 
tell  him  that  a  horse  kicked  you.  Does  that  inform  him  of  the 
nature  of  the  lesion?  You  know  very  well  that  your  leg  is 
broken,  but  what  does  the  surgeon  know?     Nothing  yet,  that 


136  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

is  of  any  consequence  for  liim  to  know.  The  first  cause  has 
ceased  to  act,  and  it  is  of  no  consequence  even  that  it  should 
be  remembered.  The  case  noiv  staiids  as  independent  of  the 
kick  as  if  it  had  never  heen  inflicted. 

"What  the  surgeon  needs  to  know  is  the  fact  that  the  bone  is 
broken.  The  break,  which  is  the  effect  of  the  kick,  becomes 
at  once  the  cause  of  the  pain.  We  cannot  deal  Avith  the  kick, 
and  if  we  could,  it  would  not  mend  the  broken  bone.  Kespon- 
sibility  in  man  is  the  broken  leg  we  have  to  deal  with,  and  it 
doesn't  matter  whether  it  is  evolved  from  a  germ  or  whether  it 
comes  at  a  leap.  Secondary  causes  are  the  only  causes  we  need 
to  inquire  into — the  only  causes  we  have  any  dealings  with. 
Man's  will  may  be  a  secondary  cause,  but  so  far  as  the  inhab- 
itants of  this  earth  are  concerned,  it  is  primary,  and  may  be 
considered  as  the  first  cause  of  human  actions.  As  I  said  to 
you  once  before,  'whether  we  can  metaphysically  account  for  it 
or  not,  there  is  a  propensity  in  the  himian  mind  to  regard  each 
moral  agent  as  a  sort  of  original  source  of  action,  somewhat 
as  we  conceive  of  God.'  The  parallel  is  immanent  in  this  idea, 
with  the  utility  of  the  surgeon's  knowledge  concerning  the 
broken  leg.  All  legislation  is  based  upon  this  theory,  and  what- 
ever is  of  practical  import  must  contain  the  germ  of  truth.  To 
ignore  human  responsibility  would  be  to  abolish  civilization. 
Your  strictures  on  the  doctrine  of  free  will,  and  your  caricatures 
on  courts  of  justice  and  legislation  as  being  based  upon  human 
responsibility,  are  shorn  of  their  strength  by  your  apology  for 
making  them.  The  absurdity  of  your  position  is  admitted 
when  you  say,  'These  observations  are  neither  made  to  censure 
nor  to  uphold  the  wisdom  of  legislation,  for  the  exigencies  of 
civil  life  require  many  factitious  ordinances,  which  men  in 
their  moral  and  intellectual  feebleness  are  constrained  to  toler- 
ate.' The  exigencies  of  civil  life  include  medical  and  surgical 
practice,  in  which  the  application  of  remedies  for  the  relief  of 
suffering  is  limited  to  secondary  causes.  No  theory  which  re- 
duces its  practical  application  to  an  absurdity  can  be  true,  and 
as  your  labored  arg-ument  has  ended  in  confusion  and  chaos,  it 
follows  that,  notwithstanding  the  validity  of  your  reasoning, 
and  the  regularity  of  your  syllogisms,  the  fallacy  of  your  con- 
clusions proves  the  unsoundness  of  your  premises.      Man's  will 


Secondan^  Causes.  137 

is,  therefore,  free,  and  liiiman  responsibility  is  a  fact.  Take 
this  upon  faith  as  the  highest  act  of  reason,  and  'beware,  lest 
any  man  spoil  you  through  philosophy.'  " 

"Faith,"  replied  the  teacher,  "assumes  control  when  man 
passes  the  boundary  of  his  own  knowledge.  Within  the  'circle 
of  the  finite,'  man  is  governed  by  his  senses,  his  passions,  emo- 
tions, appetites,  and  his  reason.  In  the  realm  of  darkness  be- 
yond the  circle,  where  every  physical  and  mental  trait  calls  a 
halt;  where  passion  is  dead,  and  appetite  sated;  where  emotion 
ceases  and  reason  herself  lays  down  her  burthen — here,  in  the 
great  unknown — in  the  precincts  of  Eternity,  faith  becomes 
our  guide.  It  is  a  star  of  light  or  a  nebulous  halo,  a  lantern  of 
hope  or  blank  despair;  the  beacon  of  the  wise  or  the  veil  of 
the  weak,  as  it  starts  from  the  understanding  or  is  the  product 
of  hope  and  fear. 

"Webster  says,  'Faith  is  belief :  the  assent  of  the  mind  to 
the  truth  of  what  is  declared  by  another,  resting  on  his  author- 
ity and  veracity,  without  other  evidence.'  Paul  says,  'Faith 
is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things 
not  seen.'  These  two  authorities  make  no  distinction  between 
faith  in  truth  and  faith  in  error.  The  definitions  clearly  mean 
an  act  of  the  mind  without  regard  to  the  ultimate  consequences 
of  that  act.  Can  a  man  have  faith  in  error?  Can  you  honestly 
believe  another  to  be  pure  when  he  is  impure?  Did  Paulina 
(mentioned  in  our  discussion  on  freedom  and  necessity)  exer- 
cise faith,  when  she  assented  to  the  declaration  of  her  priest, 
that  her  god  Anubis  desired  to  sup  and  lie  with  her?  Did 
Columbus  exercise  faith  when  he  resolutely  persisted  in  his 
Western  course  to  discover  America  ? 

"The  faith  of  Paulina  was  the  'highest'  act  of  reason ;  the 
faith  of  Columbus  the  last  act  of  reason.  The  faith  of  Paulina 
was  so  high  above  reason  that  she  lost  her  virtue  and  her  happi- 
ness in  reaching  after  the  divine  afflatus.  The  faith  of  Colimi- 
bus  being  subsidiary  to  reason,  enabled  him  to  immortalize  his 
name,  and  work  untold  benefits  to  his  race.  Paulina  accepted 
the  dogmatic  assertion  of  a  priest ;  Colmnbus  relied  solely  upon 
the  deductions  of  his  own  logical  mind.  These  are  typical  ex- 
amples. 


138  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"When  a  man  like  Beecher  says  he  lays  aside  his  reason  and 
accepts  blindly  the  doctrines  of  the  Trinity,  or  any  other  eccle- 
siastical dogma,  he  is  in  the  same  category  with  Paulina,  and  it 
is  a  mere  chance  if  he  is  right.  Cases  of  poison  in  food  illus- 
trate faith  without  investigation. 

''We  take  the  food,  poison  and  all,  with  the  belief  that  we 
shall  be  nourished.  An  act  of  faith  per  se  is  as  liable  to  be 
false  as  true,  and  to  believe  contrary  to  evidence  is  simply  to 
stultify  one's  self.  The  image  in  which  God  made  man  is  the 
image  of  intelligence.  It  is  the  sheerest  nonsense  to  talk  about 
laj-ing  aside  the  reasoning  powers  in  any  matter  whatever. 
Without  reason  we  should  be  brutes,  and  that  man  who  is  guided 
solely  by  the  intelligence  of  others  is  not  far  removed  from  the 
lower  animals.  I  admit  that  it  is  the  highest  wisdom  to  be  able 
to  cull  from  the  reasoning  and  intelligence  of  others  the  pith 
and  essence  of  true  philosophy,  but  to  blindly  follow  the  dicta 
of  any  man  or  any  set  of  men,  is  merely  to  imitate,  which  any 
respectable  ape  can  do.  If  we  accept  responsibility,  then,  we 
have  to  do  it  like  Beecher  does  the  Trinity ;  like  Paulina  did 
the  machinations  of  her  priest.  Reason  is  against  it ;  the  last 
resource  of  logic  is  against  it.  All  the  baser  passions  favor  it. 
Malice,  revenge,  hatred,  all  say,  'You  could  have  acted  differ- 
ently. You  knew  better.  You  deser\"e  your  punishment.' 
The  prayer,  'Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  knoAV  not  what 
they  do,'  is  logic,  love,  religion.  This  came  from  the  Master, 
and  does  not  sound  like  responsibility." 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  the  traveler,  "none  are  so  blind  as 
those  who  refuse  to  see.  I  have  been  disposed  to  think  that 
you  were  in  honest  error,  and  that  your  rejection  of  spiritual 
truth  was  a  species  of  psychical  lethargy,  or  rather  a  one-sided 
view  of  the  existing  mental  cosmos;  but  since  you  ignore  facts 
and  skim  the  surface,  I  desire  to  call  your  attention  to  some 
illustrations  of  the  vast  utility  and  paramount  necessity  of  ex- 
ercising faith  contrary  to  evidence.  Your  position  would  be 
tenable  if  the  word  ignorance,  and  all  it  involves,  could  be 
stricken  from  human  affairs;  but  until  knowledge  becomes  uni- 
versal and  infallibility  the  patrimony  of  all,  you  are  bound  to 
concede  that  evidence  is  often  misleading,  and  blind  faith  be- 
comes the  last  as  well  as  the  'highest'  act  of  reason.     Your 


Secondary  Causes.  139 

'typical  examples'  can  be  offset  with  thousands  of  others  which 
have  occurred  in  the  experience  of  every  one  who  has  arrived 
at  the  age  of  maturity ;  and  in  no  department  can  this  be  made 
plainer  than  in  the  art  of  healing. 

"An  actual  occurrence  will  serve  better  than  any  hypothetical 
cue,  to  show  that  you  have  missed  some  facts  upon  which  your 
theory  is  built;  and,  according  to  your  own  evidence,  'If  it  can 
be  found  that  one  of  the  least  factors  of  existence  shows  vio- 
lence to  any  theory,  that  theory  in  the  nature  of  things  must 
be  false.' 

"Mrs.  A.  consults  Dr.  B.  for  an  opinion  as  to  her  condition. 
She  is  forty  years  old,  in  perfect  health  apparently,  is  the 
mother  of  several  children,  the  youngest  of  which  is  five  years 
of  age.  For  several  months  she  has  been  enlarging  as  in  a 
normal  pregnancy.  She  believes  that  to  be  the  case,  but  on 
account  of  her  age  and  the  age  of  her  youngest  child,  as  well 
as  some  vague  forebodings,  she  wishes  the  matter  set  at  rest 
by  a  medical  consultation.  The  doctor  finds  that  she  is  not 
pregnant;  that  the  enlargement  is  due  to  a  rapidly  growing 
ovarian  tumor,  and  tells  her  plainly  that  her  life  depends  upon 
an  early  operation.  He  insists  that  without  the  operation 
death  is  inevitable,  and  encourages  her  that  with  the  operation 
the  chances  are  overwhelmingly  in  favor  of  a  permanent  cure. 
The  evidence  to  the  woman's  mind  is  altogether  against  the  as- 
sertion of  the  doctor.  She  has  every  reason  to  believe  she  is 
pregnant.  She  is  not  too  old;  she  is  perfectly  well;  she  has 
been  pregnant  several  times  before,  and  the  symptoms  are  vei-y 
similar  to  her  former  conditions.  Her  friends  insist  that  the 
doctor  is  mistaken — they  often  are — and  that  her  condition  is 
due  to  pregniancy.  Her  senses,  her  experience,  her  reason, 
every  fact  connected  with  her  condition,  together  with  the  dread 
of  the  operation  and  the  insistence  of  her  friends,  strengthens 
a  faith — based,  not  upon  hope  or  fear,  but  a  faith  based  upon 
reason  and  experience.  Paulina's  faith  was  blind.  This  wo- 
man's faith  was  the  product  of  all  that  you  insist  upon  as 
necessary  to  a  true  faith.  Paulina's  faith  was  strictly  after 
Webster's  definition;  this  woman's  proved  the  truth  of  Paul's. 
Paulina  lost  her  happiness;  this  woman  lost  her  life.*     Your 


*This  case  occurred  in  the  practice  of  tlie  author. 


140  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

assertion  is  true  that,  'an  act  of  faith  per  se  is  as  liable  to  be 
false  as  true';  but  as  the  converse  is  equally  true,  before  you 
condemn  any  act  of  faith,  you  must  place  human  nature  upon 
a  basis  of  infallibility,  and  make  man  an  omniscient  being. 

"If  this  woman's  faith  had  been  modeled  after  Paulina's ; 
if  she  had  blindly  believed  her  physician  as  Paulina  did  the 
priest,  her  life  might  haA^e  been  saved  by  the  same  unthinking 
credence  which  caused  Paulina's  mortification." 

At  this  point,  the  schoolmaster,  perceiving  that  many  rational 
observations  could  be  made  on  either  side,  and  that  the  dis- 
cussion might  be  carried  on  indefinitely  in  a  circle,  trenched  on 
the  argumentum  ad  judicium  by  suddenly  asking,  "Do  you  be- 
lieve in  the  foreknowledge  of  God  ?" 

His  guest,  after  a  little  thought,  said :  "Bringing  in  the 
ideality  of  time,  or  the  insight  that  time  is  only  a  relation  in 
self-consciousness,  and  is,  therefore,  nothing  in  itself,  or  is  rel- 
ative to  the  person's  range  or  limitations,  leaves  the  problem 
of  foreknowledge  empty  as  a  speculative  question." 

"You  may  be  right,"  replied  the  teacher,  "so  far  as  God  is 
concerned,  but  we  poor  mortals  who  are  so  limited  will  always 
have  to  separate  yesterday  from  to-morrow  by  to-day.  To  the 
self -consciousness  of  God  time  may  be  only  a  relation,  and, 
therefore,  nothing  in  itself,  but  that  view  establishes  his  pre- 
science as  a  fact  to  our  limitations.  We  cannot  conceive  of 
an  eternal  present;  and  as  man's  range  of  limitations  is  infi- 
nitely small  compared  with  God's,  time  becomes  a  fact  in  our 
self-consciousness ;  therefore,  the  past  and  future  of  man  is 
no  more  than  an  eternal  present  with  God.  The  conclusion, 
then,  forces  itself  that  God's  knowledge  extends  to  man's  fu- 
ture." 

"It  is  argued  by  some,"  replied  the  traveler,  "that  God's 
prescience  does  not  extend  to  or  include  contingencies;  and  it 
would  puzzle  the  greatest  philosopher  that  ever  was  to  give 
any  tolerable  account  how  any  knowledge  whatsoever  can  cer- 
tainly and  infallibly  foresee  an  event  through  uncertain  and 
contingent  causes." 

Teacher. — Your  argument,  my  dear  sir,  continues  to  revolve. 
Your  first  answer  to  my  query  as  to  God's  foreknowledge  elim- 
inates time,   and,   therefore,   destroys   contingent  causes.       An 


Secondary  Causes.  141 

eternal  present  can  never  tolerate  contingencies;  as  whatever  is 
casual  Avith  man  is  immediate  with  God.     Now,  as  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  eliminate  time  from  man's  self-consciousness,  I  would 
ask  if  you  think  man  knows  anything  of  the  future. 
Guest. — I  should  answer,  no. 

Teacher. — Then,  when  you  got  out  of  bed  this  morning  you 
did  not  know  as  much  as  you  know  at  the  present  moment  ? 

Guest. — No,  I  lacked  just  what  I  have  learned  to-day.  I 
might  have  correctly  guessed  at  some  things  that  I  now  know, 
but  as  to  absolute  knowledge,  I  had  none  of  that  which  I  have 
acquired  since  rising  this  morning. 

Teacher. — Whatever  you  have  thought  and  done  to-day  is  a 
past  fixed  fact,  indelibly  mapped  in  the  mind  of  Omniscience, 
and  stamped  upon  your  ow^i  mind  so  far  as  your  memory  re- 
tains it? 

Guest. — I  admit  this,  also. 

Teacher. — Now,  to  make  a  hypothetical  case,  suppose  it  pos- 
sible to  place  you  back  to  the  time  of  rising  this  morning,  mth 
all  your  surroundings  the  same;  with  the  whole  universe  and 
all  it  contains  precisely  as  it  was  at  the  time  you  got  up ;  with 
the  same  mental  and  physical  state  as  regards  your  personality ; 
with  the  same  will  to  actuate  your  motives  to  carry  out  your 
actions ;  with  the  same  knowledge  and  experience  you  had  then 
— no  more,  and  no  less — and  with  every  occurrence  disconnected 
from  yourself  reenacted,  would  you  do  the  same  things  you 
have  done  to-day,  or  would  you  do  something  else? 

Guest. — I  should  say,  according  to  the  teachings  of  philoso- 
phy, that  conditions  being  the  same,  man  will  act  precisely  as 
before — i.  e.,  conditions  precisely  the  same,  results  will  be  the 
same.  The  mind  cannot  realize  the  fact  that  existence  or 
change  can,  take  'place  without  a  cause.  This  is  at  least  true 
with  respect  to  my  own  mind.  I  have  very  often  made  the 
attempt,  and  with  no  small  painstaking;  hut  have  never  heen 
able  to  succeed  at  all.  Supposing  other  minds  to  have  the  same 
general  nature  with  my  own,  I  conclude  that  all  others  will  find 
the  same  want  of  success.  If  nothing  had  oHginally  existed, 
I  cannot  possibly  realize  that  anything  could  ever  have  existed. 
Causes  absolutely  the  same,  must  in  the  same  circumstances  pro- 
duce absolutely  the  same  effects.      This  is,  I  think,  certainly 


142  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

self-evident,  and  admitted  as  such.  An  absolute  want  of  cause 
involves  an  absolute  sameness  of  an  opposite  kind;  and  must, 
with  nearly  the  same  evidence,  continue  forever.  The  necessity 
of  causes  to  all  the  changes  of  being  is,  so  far  as  I  Tcnoiv,  uni- 
versally admitted."^ 

"ISTow,  let  me  ask  you  if  you  think  it  would  be  in  the  range 
of  possibility  for  you  to  think  and  act  differently?" 

Here  the  traveler  saw  the  pit  covered  with  chaff — the  trap 
set  by  this  wily  philosopher  for  his  undoing;  so,  instead  of 
answering  directly,  he  made  this  reply:  "If  we  are  to  regard 
man  as  an  original  source  of  action,  somewhat  as  we  conceive 
of  God,  then  all  metaphysical  necessity  becomes  a  shadow  of 
the  mind's  own  throwing,  and  in  dealing  with  it  we  are  chasing 
our  own  shadow  and  mistake  it  for  substance." 

"Very  true,"  replied  the  teacher,  "but  when  you  assume  that 
man  is  an  original  source  of  action,  you  break  out  a  link  in 
the  chain  of  cause  and  effect,  and  put  him  to  some  extent  on  an 
equality  with  God.  If  thought  can  start  in  the  brain  independ- 
ent of  cause,  it  would  lead  to  the  absurd  proposition  that  man 
himself  is  a  self-existent  being  independent  of  cause  and  re- 
sponsible to  no  power." 

"Well !  suppose,"  retorted  the  traveler,  "that  pure  logic  would 
compel  me  to  act  as  before ;  what  then  ?" 

"I  would  then  put  this  quodlibet: 

"Are  you  not  in  the  same  relative  position  upon  rising  each 
morning  to  the  day  following  that  you  were  this  morning  as 
regards  to-day,  i.  e.,  are  you  not  as  ignorant  of  what  will  take 
place  to-morrow,  and  every  succeeding  day  of  your  life  upon 
rising,  as  you  were  this  morning  of  what  was  to  take  place  to- 
day ;  and  your  will  to  control  your  motives ;  and  your  motives 
to  direct  your  actions :  are  they  not  in  the  same  category  as 
to'  circumstance,  environment,  hopes,  fears,  desires  and  all  the 
complicated  and  varied  energies  of  life  as  they  were  this  morn- 
ing, in  regard  to  what  Avas  to  take  place  to-day?" 

"I  grant  your  proposition;  now,  what?" 

"If  you  will  be  in  the  same  relative  position  in  regard  to 
the  day  upon  rising  to-morrow  morning  that  you  were  this 
morning  in  regard  to  the  present  day,  and  the  opportunity  of 


*The  italicised  lines  are  taken  from  Dwight's  Theology,  page  2. 


Secondary  Causes.  143 

going  over  this  day,  under  the  same  circumstances,  would  neces- 
sitate your  following  the  same  track  you  have  already  traveled, 
how  is  it  possible  for  you  to  avoid  the  track  which  is  indelibly 
mapped  in  the  mind  of  God  for  your  steps  to-morrow  and 
every  succeeding  day  of  your  life?  Would  you  not  have  to 
spoil  out  the  map  which  is  fixed  in  the  mind  of  Omniscience 
before  you  could  select  another  route?" 

"I  will  now,"  said  the  traveler,  a  little  impatiently,  "give  you 
what  I  conceive  to  be  the  best  solution  to  this  crotchety  and  un- 
accommodating subject. 

"I  consider  that  the  application  of  dynamic  terms  and  rela- 
tions to  the  volitional  life  is  purely  fictitious  and  misleading. 
The  illusion  arises  very  naturally,  but  it  is  none  the  less  illusory, 
and  the  objections  brought  are  illusory.  The  mind  understands 
other  things,  hut  accepts  itself:  and  it  understands  other  things 
because  they  are  not  in  mind. 

''All  the  existential  categories  find  their  concrete  illustrations 
and  meaning  only  in  the  self-conscious  life  of  active  intelli- 
gence. Taken  abstractly,  they  are  illusory  and  the  parent  of 
illusions,  or  they  cancel  themselves  and  vanish. 

"In  the  concrete  region,  the  only  test  of  possibility  apart  from 
the  purely  negative  and  formal  one  of  noncontradiction  is  ex- 
perience. The  categories  of  thought  get  all  their  meaning  from 
experience,  which  is  the  only  proof  of  their  possibility.  Hence, 
we  have  no  way  of  telling  what  can  or  cannot  be  in  the  con- 
crete, except  by  appeal  to  life ;  and  all  flourishing  of  rational 
principles,  laws  of  causation  and  the  like,  is  a  purely  verbal 
affair  without  the  slightest  ground  in  rationality.  This  applies 
equally  to  our  thought  of  our  relation  to  God.  Formal  thought 
floats  in  the  air  with  no  foothold.  We  cannot  tell  what  can 
or  cannot  be;  we  can  only  inquire  what  is,  or,  at  least,  what 
seems  to  be.  Any  other  method  breeds  chimeras.  If,  then,  we 
find  we  cannot  interpret  our  life  without  admitting  a  measure 
of  self-hood  and  self-direction,  and,  also,  without  rooting  our 
life  in  the  divine,  we  are  perfectly  free  to  do  so,  so  far  as  specu- 
lation goes. 

"This  general  view  I  call  Transcendental  Empiricism.  It 
is  essentially  the  Kantian  doctrine  made  consistent. 


144  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"I  admit  tliat  to  harmonize  th©  Sovereignty  of  God  and 
Man's  freedom  is  a  difficult  matter,  but  somehow  the  two  pillars 
do  somewhere  unite  to  form  a  beautiful  arch," 

Teacher. — We  will  now  go  to  bed. 


Boyhood.  145 


CHAPTER  XII. 

BOYHOOD. 

The  schoolmaster  went  to  bed,  but  it  was  a  long  time  before 
be  went  to  sleep.  Tbe  old  specter — Doubt — bis  familiar  spirit 
or  demon,  which  had  so  persistently  haunted  his  manhood, 
loomed  up  in  the  darkness  and  cast  uncanny  shadows  before 
his  mental  vision;  obscuring  the  light  of  his  philosophy,  and 
shading  the  lamp  of  his  reason.  His  fitful  sleep  was  inter- 
rupted by  foggy  dreams  of  hesitation  and  perplexity.  He  was 
being  tried  in  a  court  where  the  evidence  was  neither  positive 
nor  rationalistic.  His  condemnation  depended  upon  the  defi- 
nition of  a  term.  Transcendental  Empiricism  was  beyond  his 
comprehension.  He  neither  admitted  nor  denied  his  guilt.  He 
made  no  defense;  he  left  the  verdict  to  the  jury;  that  jury  is 
the  readers  of  this  book. 

Rising  with  the  lark,  he  went  out  for  a  walk  and  met  his 
guest,  whose  ancient  woe  had  refused  him  rest,  and  driven 
him  forth  for  a  new  instalment. 

"Good  morning,  friend,"  quoth  the  teacher;  "you  rise  early: 
how  about  the  night?" 

"As  usual  with  me ;  my  peace  is  short,  my  rest  is  nil." 

"I,  also,  was  troubled  last  night ;  I  slept  badly,  and  was  an- 
noyed with  unwholesome  dreams ;  you  took  me  into  deep  water, 
and  I  am  not  refreshed.  Suppose  we  come  down  to  a  more 
familiar  use  of  language  and  talk  of  the  boy." 

"As  you  like,"  Avas  the  reply;  "I  remember  well  my  boyhood 
days,  though  so  long  since  past." 

"If  we  look  at  the  boy  as  he  is,"  continued  the  teacher,  "we 
shall  find  him  a  savage,  both  by  instinct  and  habit ;  up  to  the 
fourteenth  year  the  human  being  lives  for  itself;  its  instincts 
are  for  the  gratification  of  its  present  wants,  and  those  wants 
are,  for  the  most  part,  connected  with  its  vegetative  develop- 
ment. If  the  boy  is  healthy,  his  appetite  for  eating  is  almost 
insatiable,  and  his  power  for  mischief  is  in  proportion  to  his 
strength.  He  is  cruel,  thoughtless  and  venal.  He  delights  in 
punishing  the  helpless  and  torturing  the  weak.     He  will  strip 

10 


146  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

a  bird  of  its  feathers  and  chop  its  legs  off.  He  will  stick  a 
cork  on  its  beak  and  turn  it  loose.  He  will  pull  off  the  legs 
of  flies  and  gloat  over  their  helplessness.  He  will  put  a  live 
coal  of  fire  on  a  turtle's  back  to  see  him  run,  and  he  will  feed 
shot  to  a  frog  till  it  can't  hop.  He  will  annoy  domestic  ani- 
mals from  pure  'cussedness,'  and  if  by  chance  a  little  just  retri- 
bution befalls  him,  he  will  scream  at  the  top  of  his  voice  and 
iim  to  his  mother.  He  is  essentially  a  coward.  While  he 
revels  in  tyranny,  he  is  careful  never  to  attack  the  strong.  One 
boy  alone  never  was  known  to  storm  a  hornet's  nest.  He  will 
band  together,  and  with  the  tactics  of  a  veteran,  make  sallies 
and  retreats.  His  greatest  delight  in  this  warfare  is  that  the 
other  boy  may  get  stung.  He  will  take  the  risk  himself  with 
the  hope  of  hearing  the  other  boy  howl.  This  is  the  savage  in 
him.  It  shows  itself  in  his  treatment  of  his  playmates,  on 
whom  he  is  more  or  less  dependent  for  his  selfish  pleasures. 
To  them  he  is  rarely  kind,  never  just.  This  spirit  hangs  on 
through  life,  and  is  only  softened  by  experience,  education  and 
religion.  It  is  nothing  more  than  the  spirit  of  resistance 
which  makes  it  possible  to  live  in  a  world  like  this.  All  the 
teaching  and  all  the  preaching  have  not  eradicated  it  from  the 
human  heart,  and  probably  never  will.  Christianity  has  been 
preaching  against  it  for  two  thousand  years ;  Buddhism  as  stren- 
uously opposes  it,  and  Confucius  laid  down  a  golden  rule  for 
human  conduct : 

''  'What  you  do  not  like  when  done  to  yourself,  do  not  do  to 
others.'  But  the  boy  has  no  use  for  catholic  or  ethical  rules. 
He  lives  for  self,  and  is  on  the  defensive  when  not  the  ag- 
gressor. Teachers  and  humanitarians  would  probably  do  bet- 
ter work  by  directing,  rather  than  attempting  to  suppress  this 
inborn  principle. 

"Anywhere  from  five  to  twelve  years  of  age,  the  boy  is  a 
brute.  He  is  not  only  brutish;  he  is  absolutely  bestial.  He 
will  do  things  the  remembrance  of  which  will  make  him  shudder 
after  maturity.  If  vigorous  and  healthy,  his  curiosity  will 
drive  him  into  measures  which  bring  tears  to  his  mother's  eyes 
and  sadness  to  her  heart.  Work  he  will  not,  except  under  com- 
pulsion, and  why?  Because  he  is  unfit  for  work  and  cannot 
see  the  need  for  it.     His  business  is  to  eat  and  to  grow  and  to 


Boghood.  147 

get  into  mischief.  Compel  him  to  work  and  you  dwarf  his  in- 
tellect and  stunt  his  body.  Send  him  to  school,  and  but  for 
the  chance  to  play  pranks  on  his  deskmate,  to  hollo  and  run 
when  playtime  comes,  to  cheat  the  teacher  and  domineer  it 
over  some  smaller  boy,  he  had  as  soon  be  in  limbo.  He  will 
not  study,  simply  because  he  can't.  He  is  too  full  of  blood, 
too  full  of  mischief,  too  full  of  fun,  too  full  of  the  boy.  There 
is  nothing  of  the  saint  in  him;  nothing  of  the  man,  but  this  is 
the  boy  out  of  which  the  real  man  comes.  The  good  boy  makes 
a  soriy  man,  and  oftentimes  a  bad  one.  The  studious  boy 
seldom  gets  an  education,  and  when  he  does  his  body  is  dwarfed 
and  his  spirit  broken.  The  real  boy,  that  is  father  to  the  true 
man,  has  no  time  for  study,  no  time  to  be  good,  no  time  to  keep 
clean  even,  no  time  to  obey  his  parents  or  teachers.  His  whole 
time  is  occupied  in  growing  and  cultivating  the  accessories  to 
growth.  His  mind  is  as  active  as  it  ever  will  be,  but  it  is  not 
on  the  great  problems  of  life.  His  mental  scope  is  limited  to 
his  experience,  stimulated  by  his  rapid  strides  from  ignorance 
to  knowledge,  and  carried  forward  by  the  panoramic  view  of 
life  as  it  is  presented  to  his  consciousness  day  in  and  day  out. 
His  imagination  leads  him  into  the  most  weird  and  fallacious 
conceptions  of  life  and  the  universe.  He  fonns  the  most  fan- 
tastic theories  of  the  causes  of  every  observed  effect,  and  he  will 
ask  questions  that  will  puzzle  the  greatest  philosopher.  These 
reminiscences  occupy  but  little  of  his  time,  but  they  obtrude  in 
his  leisure  moments  and  especially  after  listening  to  the  con- 
versation of  his  elders.  If  his  bump  of  acquisitiveness  is  largely 
developed,  he  will  work  for  money,  but  he  always  wants  a  big 
price.  If  his  mechanical  bent  is  in  the  ascendency,  he  will 
work  with  tools  and  build  mills,  flying-jennies  and  hand-carts, 
or  railroads  down  the  slopes  of  hills.  It  is  astonishing  how 
faithfully  and  persistently  the  mechanical  mind  will  drive  the 
boy  to  these  exercises.  If  interrupted  in  these  pursuits  by  ill- 
advised  parents,  he  will  swear  by  all  that  is  good  or  bad  that 
when  he  gets  grown  he  will  build  as  many  mills,  carts  and  fly- 
ing-jennies as  he  wants.  The  determination  fades  away  as  he 
grows  older,  and  he  never  knows  how  nor  when  it  left  him. 
If  he  is  a  sort  of  milksop  with  no  strong  proclivities,  he  will 
be  easily  led,   and  will  work  for  another  boy,  but  never  for 


148  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

himself.  If  naturally  sympathetic  and  kind-hearted,  Avith  weak 
thinking  powers,  under  the  stimulus  of  praise  he  will  wait  on 
his  mother,  build  fires  and  help  her  cook.  But  when  a  man, 
the  same  boy  will  let  her  starve  and — be  sorry  for  her.  The 
mother  always  loves  this  boy.  He  is  the  prodigal  son,  and  the 
fatted  calf  is  always  ready  for  a  feast.  He  is  so  good  and  so 
helpless  and  so  worthless  that  the  mother's  heart  yearns  toward 
him  to  her  last  breath.  The  bad  (but  not  mean)  boy,  when 
a  man,  will  feed  and  clothe  his  mother  and  make  her  com- 
fortable, but  she  never  loves  him.  Her  heart  will  always  go 
out  to  the  prodigal.  She  will  fear  and  respect  her  manly  son, 
but  way  down,  deep,  in  the  bottom  of  her  soul,  is  a  warm  nest, 
and  hovering  wings  for  the  unlicked  cub.  This,  possibly,  is  a 
type  of  the  great  enigma  of  Christian  eclecticism.  These  types 
are  not  intended  to  represent  the  whole  of  humanity.  There  are 
remarkable  exceptions — geniuses,  following  no  law,  and  coming 
under  no  class.  There  are  a  few  men  and  women  who  have  lived 
to  maturity,  and  even  old  age,  whose  infancy  and  childhood  were 
as  remarkable  as  their  manhood  and  womanhood ;  whose  brains 
and  bodies  seem  to  have  been  cast  in  superior  moulds.  But,  as  a 
rule,  intellectual  prodigies  die  young.  The  most  remarkable 
instance  on  record  is  a  child  born  at  Lubeck,  February  6,  1721, 
and  died  there,  June  27,  1725,  after  having  displayed  the  most 
amazing  proofs  of  intellectual  powers.  He  could  talk  at  ten 
months  old,  and  had  scarcely  completed  his  first  year  Avhen  he 
already  kncAv  and  recited  the  principal  facts  contained  in  the 
fiA^e  books  of  Moses,  with  a  number  of  verses  on  the  creation : 
at  thirteen  months  he  knew  the  history  of  the  Old  Testament ; 
and  the  New,  at  fourteen ;  in  his  thirtieth  month,  the  history  of 
the  nations  of  antiquity,  geography,  anatomy,  the  use  of  maps, 
and  nearly  5,000  Latin  words.  Before  the  end  of  his  third  year 
Jie  was  well  acquainted  with  the  history  of  Denmark,  and  the 
genealogy  of  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe;  in  his  fourth  year 
he  had  learned  the  doctrines  of  divinity,  Avith  their  proofs  from 
the  Bible ;  ecclesiastical  history ;  the  institutes ;  200  hymns,  with 
their  tunes ;  80  psalms ;  entire  chapters  of  the  Old  and  ISTew  Tes- 
taments; 1,500  verses  and  sentences  from  ancient  Latin  classics; 
almost  the  whole  Orbis  Pictus  of  Comenius,  whence  he  had 
derived  all  his  knowledge  of  the  Latin  language;  arithmetic;  his- 


Boi^hood.  149 

tory  of  the  European  empires  and  kingdoms ;  could  point  out,  in 
the  maps,  whatever  place  he  was  asked  for  or  passed  by  in  his 
journeys ;  and  recited  all  the  ancient  and  modem  historical 
anecdotes  relating  to  it.  His  stupendous  memory  caught  and 
retained  every  word  he  was  told;  his  ever  active  imagination 
used  whatever  he  heard  or  saw  instantly  to  apply  some  ex- 
ample or  sentence  from  the  Bible,  geography,  profane  or  ec- 
clesiastical history,  the  Orbis  Pictus,  or  from  ancient  classics. 
At  the  court  of  Denmark  he  delivered  twelve  speeches  without 
once  faltering,  and  underwent  public  examination  on  a  variety 
of  subjects,  especially  the  history  of  Denmark.  He  spoke  Ger- 
man, Latin,  French,  and  low  Dutch,  and  was  exceedingly  good- 
natured,  and  well-behaved,  but  of  a  most  tender  and  delicate 
bodily  constitution;  never  ate  any  solid  food,  but  chiefly  sub- 
sisted on  nurse's  milk,  not  being  weaned  till  within  a  very  few 
months  of  his  death,  at  which  time  he  was  not  quite  four 
years  old.  There  is  a  dissertation  on  this,  published  by  M. 
Martini,  at  Lubeck,  1730,  where  the  author  attempts  to  assign 
natural  causes  for  the  astonishing  capacity  of  this  great  man 
in  embryo,  who  was  just  shown  to  the  world  and  snatched 
away. 


150  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

CAUSE   AND   EFFECT. 

"To  THE  philosopher,  who  would  pry  into  the  secrets  of  na- 
ture, and  endeavor  to  learn  something  of  himself  and  his  fel- 
low-man, the  fii'st  issue  that  presents  itself  is  an  interrogatory: 

"Why  is  the  boy  just  what  he  is  ? 

"A  satisfactory  answer  to  this  question  would  solve  the 
euigTiia  of  life,  and  settle  at  once  and  forever  the  wrangles  and 
disputes  of  ages.  Whoever  has  studied  critically  the  philoso- 
phy of  cause  and  effect,  or  whoever  believes  that  there  are 
causes  for  what  is,  what  has  been,  and  what  is  to  be — in  other 
words,  whoever  denies  that  things  happen  by  chance,  and  admits 
that  the  universe  is  governed  by  law,  must  form  in  his  oavu 
mind  a  chain,  the  last  link  of  which  corresponds  to  the  last  ob- 
served effect.  Start  with  the  last  link  and  count  back,  link  by 
link,  through  the  division  made  by  Aristotle,  of  material,  for- 
mal, efficient  and  final  causes,  and  you  can  never  stop  until  you 
get  to  the  first  cause  of  everything.  This  chain  starting  with 
the  Great  First  Cause  reaches  down  to  the  last  link,  and 
branches  out  in  directions  illimitable  to  the  last  outgrowth  of 
cause,  and  through  the  haphazard,  chance-medley  revolutions 
of  the  great  wheel  of  Fortune.  It  includes  the  material  and 
the  immaterial,  the  spiritual  and  the  corporeal.  Thought  it- 
self is  fettered  by  this  chain,  and  motive  and  act  are  embraced 
in  its  coil.  Break  out  a  link  and  that  would  sever  the  conse- 
quent from  God — and  that  is  inconceivable.  Somewhere  along 
this  chain  of  links  the  boy's  existence  begins.  Go  back,  and 
you  can  never  stop  short  of  the  first  cause,  which  is  God.  Go 
forward,  and  the  chain  is  broken  only  at  death,  if  then.  The 
backward  links  may  be  appropriately  named  life,  heredity,  in- 
tellect, physique,  circumstance  of  birth,  sex  and  nationality. 
The  forward  links  include  environment,  association,  riches  and 
poverty,  education,  health  and  disease,  will,  motive  and  action. 
The  links  alternately  represent  cause  and  effect;  the  first  link 
being  the  cause  of  the  second;  the  second  is  now  only  an  effect, 
but  it  immediately  becomes  the  cause  of  the  third,  and  so  on 
to  the  end  of  the  chain.     One  of  the  simplest  and  most  familiar 


Cause  and  Effect.  151 

examples  of  cause  and  effect  is  a  shadow  cast  on  a  wall.  The 
shadow  is  the  effect  of  two  causes  which  are  at  once  apparent, 
viz.,  the  opaque  object  and  the  light.  This  shadow  is  a  type, 
so  far  as  its  backward  movement  is  concerned,  of  every  effect 
that  has  ever  existed  since  cause  first  began  to  operate.  It 
has  within  itself  no  power  to  remove,  modify  or  change  the  cause 
or  causes  which  produced  it,  and,  therefore,  it  is  a  shadow  from 
necessity.  It  does  not  matter  about  its  being  a  phenomenon. 
The  chain  frequently  ends  with  phenomena,  but  phenomena 
never  break  out  a  link.  Substance,  so  far  as  retroactive  power 
is  concerned,  is  in  the  same  helpless  position  as  phenomena, 
A  piece  of  furniture  which  is  the  effect  of  all  the  causes  laid 
down  by  Aristotle,  is  as  helpless  toward  any  or  all  of  the 
causes  that  aided  in  its  construction  as  the  shadow  on  the  wall. 
A  railroad,  a  steamboat,  a  house,  a  suit  of  clothes  is  in  the 
same  position  in  regard  to  the  causes  which  produced  it.  Ar- 
gument seems  to  be  perfect  with  all  minds,  so  long  as  cause  and 
effect  are  applied  to  the  brute,  the  vegetable,  and  the  material 
creation ;  but  the  moment  you  touch  man  and  get  to  a  certain 
point  in  his  make-up,  a  halt  is  called  and  a  danger-signal  is 
raised.  Right  here  is  the  commencement  of  strife,  war,  and 
bloodshed.  Right  here  most  of  the  miseries  of  life  begin,  and 
right  here  man  lays  aside  his  reason.  This  is  the  point  where 
Egotheism  usurps  the  power  of  God.  This  is  where  man  be- 
gins to  love  himself  and  hate  his  neighbor.  This  is  the  altar 
at  which  the  Pharisee  offers  his  sacrifice,  and  thanks  himself 
that  he  is  not  as  other  men.  This  is  what  makes  the  Catholic 
hate  the  Protestant,  and  this  is  what  split  protestantism  into  a 
thousand  sects.  Right  here  is  the  origin  of  evil.  Man  clothes 
himself  with  the  'foolishness  of  God'  and  says,  'Look  at  me; 
behold,  I  am  without  cause;  I  am  free!' 

"Abrogate  the  law  of  cause  and  effect  as  applied  to  motive, 
will,  thought,  and  act,  and  Egotheism  becomes  the  true  philoso- 
phy of  life — the  Natui'al  and  Revealed  religion  of  man.  If 
thought  originates  de  novo  in  the  brain  of  man,  if  motive  and 
will  have  no  cause  back  of  mind  itself,  then  the  acts  of  man 
form  the  second  link  in  the  chain,  and  give  us  a  polytheism 
which  rationally  accounts  for  the  disordered  state  of  human 
society.      Upon  this  idea  men  act  while  professing  to  believe  in 


152  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

God,  'but  thej  change  the  truth  of  God  into  a  lie,  and  worship 
and  serve  the  creature  rather  than  the  Creator.'  Upon  this  idea 
man  has  made  a  hell  for  his  neighbor,  and  a  heaven  for  himself. 
Upon  this  idea  war  is  declared  and  blood  is  shed.  This  false 
and  sinful  notion  takes  all  the  responsibility  from  me  and  places 
it  upon  you.  It  makes  us  blame  the  boy  for  being  rude  and 
thoughtless,  and  makes  us  hate  the  man  for  thinking  and  acting 
differently  from  ourselves.  It  makes  hypocrites  of  us  all,  both 
in  life  and  religion.  The  mission  of  Christ  was  to  correct  this 
error,  and  save  us  from  our  sins ;  but  his  teachings  were  re- 
pudiated then,  and  are  perverted  now.  His  last  prayer  was  a 
lamentation  for  our  ignorance : 

"  'Father,  forgive  tliem,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do.' 

"  'The  ox  kuoweth  his  owner,  and  the  ass  his  master's  crib ;  but 
Israel  hatli  not  IvDown  me,  and  my  people  hath  not  understood." 

"ISTow,  why  is  this?  The  answer  is  plain.  Reason  has  ab- 
dicated her  throne,  and  passion  reigns.  Man  has  voted  out 
logic,  and  fallen  in  love  with  himself.  Self-deification  is  at 
the  root  and  bottom  of  his  philosophy,  and  being  self-made, 
he  worships  his  Maker.  How  easy  it  would  be  to  cultivate  and 
practice  the  Christian  virtues  if  men  would  reason  correctly. 
Charity  would  flow  from  one  to  another,  and  hatred  Avould  for- 
sake the  human  heart.  The  golden  rule  would  be  the  guide  for 
all,  and  strife  would  cease.  If  we  could  recognize  that  motive 
is  the  effect  of  anterior  causes  over  which  it  has  no  control, 
that  will  is  not  a  self-existent  entity,  and  that  action  is  only  a 
link  in  the  chain  of  cause  and  effect,  we  would  cease  to  blame 
men  for  what  they  do,  and  a  rational  legislation  would  take 
the  place  of  our  present  statutes.  Arbitration  would  take  the 
place  of  war,  compromise  would  shut  up  the  courts  of  law,  and 
mild  coercion  would  be  the  means  of  reforming  the  thoughtless. 
The  boy  Avould  be  seen  as  he  is,  and  not  as  the  older  one  thinks 
he  ought  to  be;  the  rod  would  be  laid  aside  and  the  precepts 
of  Jesus  substituted  for  the  savagery  of  Solomon.  If  the  boy 
was  not  just  what  he  is,  there  would  be  no  place  on  earth  for 
him.  If  God  had  only  wanted  men.  He  would  have  made 
them  of  dust  as  He  did  the  first  man,  and  there  would  have 
been  no  use  for  women ;  but  God  wanted  boys,  and  He  wanted 


Cause  and  Effect  153 

them  just  as  they  are,  or  He  would  have  had  them  different. 
The  boy  is  all  right  if  he  could  be  let  alone  and  have  good  ex- 
amples set  by  his  elders.  But  so  long  as  he  is  ill-treated,  and 
looked  upon  as  an  encumbrance,  his  evil  propensities  will  re- 
main in  the  ascendency.  Cause  and  effect  operate  here,  the 
same  as  they  do  in  the  various  departments  of  industry.  Culti- 
vate the  boy  as  you  would  a  crop,  and  if  the  seed  is  good,  and 
the  soil  productive,  you  will  harvest  a  man.  But  the  seed  is  of 
more  importance  than  the  cultivation,  for  it  is  not  by  virtue 
of  education  so  much  as  by  virtue  of  inheritance  that  he  is 
brave  or  timid,  generous  or  selfish,  prudent  or  reckless,  boastful 
or  modest,  quick  or  placid  of  temper.  Common  observation  has 
always  recognized,  and  has  expressed  in  various  popular  say- 
ings in  all  languages,  the  vital  influence  of  breed  upon  char- 
acter, and  the  impossibility  of  eradicating  nature.  It  is  of 
more  importance  to  know  what  a  man's  father  or  mother  was 
than  what  his  schoolmaster  was.  Many  an  experience  in  life 
teaches  the  individual  who  has  had  the  blessing  of  a  good 
parentage  how  incalculable  is  his  debt.  When  compelled  to 
act  at  critical  moments,  or  under  difficult  and  trying  circum- 
stances to  which  he  was  not  consciously  equal,  or  under  great 
temptation  to  wrong  or  in  any  other  case  in  which  his  art  has 
failed  him,  he  shall  have  had  cause  to  bless  the  nature  which 
he  has  inherited,  to  give  thanks  for  the  reseiwe  force  of  a 
sound  and  vigorous  character  which  his  parents  have  endowed 
him  with,  and  which  has  stood  him  in  good  stead  and  inspired 
him,  as  his  leisurely  consideration  proA'es,  to  do  rightly  when 
he  knew  not  what  he  was  doing.  The  individual's  nature  is 
beneath  his  art ;  if  sound,  it  will  come  to  his  rescue  when 
culture  fails  him ;  if  unsound,  it  will  overthrow  him  in  the 
hour  of  trial  in  spite  of  culture.  Better  than  all  that  has  been 
taught  him  by  his  pastors  and  masters,  it  will  enable  him  to 
meet  his  last  fate  with  becoming  dignity  in  the  hour  of  death 
and  in  the  day  of  judgment." 

This  discourse  had  so  absorbed  the  attention  of  the  two  men 
that  their  long  walk  had  unconsciously  tenninated  just  as  the 
old  philosopher  spoke  the  last  sentence.  They  were  back  at 
the  house  and  breakfast  was  ready.  The  traveler,  notwithstand- 
ing his  long  and  varied  experience  in  life,  and  for  all  his  asso- 


154  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

ciations  with  the  philosophers  and  theologians  of  the  different 
schools,  had  caught  an  idea  from  this  old  man  which  even  to 
him  was  new.  The  old  question  of  moral  evil  had  perplexed 
him  as  it  had  perplexed  others.  He  was  unwilling  to  place  the 
authorship  of  sin  upon  God,  and  the  devil  was  only  a  shifty 
substitute.  He  admitted  that  the  image  in  which  God  had  made 
man  was  the  image  of  intelligence,  but  he  had  been  taught 
that,  "the  foolishness  of  God  is  wiser  than  men,"  and  he 
doubted  the  good  of  human  reason.  But  here  was  an  explana- 
tion of  the  origin  of  evil  that  would  take  it  off  from  God,  and 
shift  it  even  from  the  shoulders  of  the  devil.  The  twisting  of 
a  link  in  the  chain  of  cause  and  effect  had  given  it  a  sort  of 
antithetical  origin,  and  left  it  uncertain  as  to  whose  door  the 
blame  should  be  laid.  The  abdication  of  Reason  left  the  entry 
unguarded,  and  as  Passion  donned  the  purple  gown,  she  shook 
from  her  skirts  the  elements  of  discord,  which  came  together 
by  Cosmical  affinity,  and  formed  the  hydra-headed  Cabinet, 
whose  voice  is  so  often  heard  in  the  councils  of  men.  He  felt 
a  good  deal  like  the  schoolmaster  felt  at  the  end  of  the  discus- 
sion on  Responsibility.  He  was  willing  to  leave  the  verdict  to 
the  jur}'  without  further  comment. 

After  breakfast  the  schoolmaster  proposed  a  walk  to  the 
depot,  for  the  mail.  This  suited  the  itinerant,  as  he  had  begun 
to  feel  very  painfully  the  old  ringing  noise  which  was  becoming 
intolerable  from  too  much  idleness.  What  was  talked  about  on 
this  trip  is  recorded  in  the  next  chapter. 


From  Bophood  to  Manhood  155 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

FROM    BOYHOOD    TO    MANHOOD. 

"Boyhood,"  began  the  teacher,  after  they  had.  well  gotten  on 
the  road,  ''had  run  its  cycle  of  age  ere  youth  is  born.  Old  age 
here  is  more  painful,  more  regrettable  than  the  old  age  of  man- 
hood, for  the  death  of  boyhood  comes  when  all  the  faculties  of 
our  being  are  in  the  ascendency,  and  the  pain  is  in  proportion 
to  the  capacity  to  feel.  Youth  is  born  upon  the  funeral  pyre 
of  boyhood,  and  as  the  embers  die  and  the  ashes  are  scattered, 
the  callow  graft  is  left  to  the  merciless  storms  of  inexperience. 
Youth  regrets  boyhood  the  more  on  account  of  its  solitariness. 
He  can  no  longer  enjoy  the  society  of  boys,  and  men  don't  want 
him.  It  is  the  transition  stage  of  life  where  every  faculty  re- 
volts at  the  tyranny  of  fate.  The  schoolroom  and  the  work- 
shop are  the  only  two  places  that  give  him  a  welcome.  'Now  is 
the  time  for  him  to  lay  the  foundation  of  a  solid  education; 
but  he  still  has  to  grow,  and  the  warfare  between  inclination 
and  duty  is  something  fearful.  The  seeds  of  passion  sprout, 
and  the  rank  growth  threatens  the  crop  with  destruction.  Am- 
bition flatters  and  despondency  paralyzes;  hope  dazzles  the 
eye  with  a  beautiful  mirage  and  fear  dispels  it;  languor  fights 
a  terrific  battle  with  industry,  and  inexperience  lays  snares  in 
his  every-day  path. 

"Youth  is  the  least  satisfactory  period  of  human  life — the 
period  when  the  human  being  is  of  no  use  to  the  world,  no  use 
to  his  friends,  and  of  little  iise  to  himself.  He  is  in  the  way  of 
everybody,  an  expense  to  his  parents  and  a  menace  to  society. 
He  is  on  top  of  the  fence  with  himself,  and  whether  he  falls 
to  the  good  or  bad  side  depends  both  upon  inheritance  and 
surroundings.  Vanity  makes  him  confident,  but  ignorance 
makes  him  inefiicient.  He  would  do  the  work  of  a  man,  but  he 
can  find  no  employer.  What  he  is  fitted  to  do  he  does  not 
relish,  and  what  he  desires  to  do  needs  an  older  head.  Con- 
stant chiding  makes  him  morbid  and  suicide  grows  into  a 
vision  of  relief.  Indiscriminate  praise  is  no  more  to  be  com- 
mended than  too  much  fault-finding.  It  is  here  that  proper 
direction  is  of  incalculable  value  to  the  future  man.     By  con- 


156  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

stantly  blaming  some  actions  and  praising  others  in  their  chil- 
dren, parents  are  able  to  so  form  their  characters  that,  apart 
from  any  reflection,  these  shall  in  after  life  be  attended  with  a 
certain  pleasure;  those,  on  the  other  hand,  with  a  certain  pain. 
Names  are  associated  with  certain  characteristics  from  impres- 
sions made  on  the  minds  of  the  young  by  their  parents  speaking 
of  Mr.  A.  as  a  drunkard,  or  Mr.  B.  as  a  rogue,  or  Mr.  C.  as 
a  common  man,  or  Mr.  D.  as  a  fine  gentleman.  These  im- 
pressions cling  to  the  individual  in  after  years,  so  that  when- 
ever he  hears  the  name  the  character  is  vividly  reproduced  in 
his  mind.  The  Romish  Church  thoroughly  understood  this 
impressionable  period  of  life  when  she  said,  'Give  me  the  child 
until  it  is  seven  years  old,  and  you  may  have  it  ever  afterward.' 
"Youth  being  the  transition  stage  between  a  purely  vegeta- 
tive existence  and  that  of  maturity,  is  beset  with  more  dangers, 
i:»ossibly,  than  any  other  period  of  life.  With  every  faculty 
of  the  mind  and  every  bodily  organ,  as  it  were,  in  a  race  for 
the  supremacy  of  growth;  with  no  power  to  curb  the  one  or  di- 
rect the  other;  without  knowledge,  without  experience;  with 
no  implements  to  prune  the  over-luxuriant,  and  no  fertilizer  to 
stimulate  the  backward ;  wdth  bodily  passions  and  mental  traits, 
growing  from  seeds  unsifted  and  unselected,  sown  upon  soil 
unprepared,  and  sterile  or  fertile  by  haps,  the  youth  is  at  the 
mercy  of  leaven  over  which  he  has  no  control;  and  unless  he 
can  be  directed  by  wiser  and  more  experienced  heads,  he  will 
be  swerved  in  the  direction  of  the  strongest  and  most  vigorous 
elements  of  his  nature.  Many  a  youth  is  so  evenly  balanced 
that  he  may  be  turned  to  the  good  or  bad  by  advice  and  admoni- 
tions from  parents,  teachers,  and  friends,  according  to  their 
insight  into  his  stronger  or  weaker  mental  and  physical  endow- 
ments. Others  are  so  aslant  from  inherited  tendencies  that 
precept  and  example  make  no  impression.  Sidewise  they  go, 
and  ajee  they  run  their  race.  For  these  people  there  is  no 
remedy.  They  make  up  the  tramps,  the  vagabonds  and  jail- 
birds of  every  country.  Dungeons,  penitentiaries,  and  work- 
houses are  for  their  use  alone.  Half  the  statutes  of  every  ci"\al- 
ized  land  are  in  force  because  of  this  class,  and  despite  of 
penalties,  the  crop  grows  and  the  harvest  becomes  more  plenti- 
ful.    These  form  the  classes  danger euses  of  large  towns,  who 


From  Boi^hood  to  Manhood.  157 

are  born  and  bred  in  squalor  and  iniquity,  and  never  have  a 
chance  afforded  them  to  rise  out  of  it.  Their  intellect  and 
moral  sense  are  seldom  sufficiently  developed  to  afford  them  the 
compensation  these  bring  to  others.  The  apparently  hopeless, 
objectless,  noxious  existence  of  these  beings,  and  their  fearful 
power  of  mischief  and  of  multiplication,  have  always  been  and 
still  remain  to  me,  'God's  most  disturbing  mystery.' 

"About  the  time  of  puberty,  one  particular  organic  element 
begins  to  develop,  whose  influence  may  be  traced  into  the  last 
ramification  of  human  motive.  Sex,  which  in  infancy  and 
childhood  is  only  a  germ,  now  begins  to  play  a  role,  that,  for 
influence  over  mankind,  both  for  good  and  evil,  has  no  counter- 
part in  nature.  All  other  passions  that  agitate  the  human 
breast  are  in  their  combined  effects  far  less  powerful  than  love, 
which  inflames  the  senses  and  fools  the  understanding.  On  the 
one  hand,  we  gratefully  glorify  love  as  the  source  of  the  most 
splendid  creations  of  art;  of  the  noblest  productions  of  poetry, 
of  plastic  art  and  of  music;  Ave  reverence  in  it  the  most  power- 
ful factor  of  human  civilization,  the  basis  of  family  life,  and, 
consequently,  of  the  development  of  the  State.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  fear  in  it  the  devouring  flame  which  drives  the  unfor- 
tunate to  ruin,  and  which  has  caused  more  misery,  vice,  and 
crime  than  all  the  other  evils  of  the  human  race  taken  together. 

"The  overmastering  passion  of  love  has  surrounding  it  a 
strange  and  mystic  glamour;  it  is  the  juggling  instinct  of  uni- 
versal nature  thrilling  through  man's  nature,  and  is  truly  an  en- 
chantment ;  the  individual  is  possessed  by  it,  being  transformed 
out  of  the  prosaic  region  of  facts  into  a  sort  of  ecstasy.  It 
is  nature's  way  of  inveigling  man  into  the  propagation  of  his 
kind,  and  so  strives  by  propagating  itself  through  time  to  cheat 
death. 

"If  bent  on  getting  an  education  or  learning  a  useful  trade, 
the  youth  cannot  be  swerved  from  the  duty  line  by  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  flesh,  or  the  siren  songs  of  imagination;  yet  the 
most  determined  and  strong-minded  young  man  will  be  modified 
in  his  views  and  influenced  in  his  actions  by  the  groAvth  of  those 
passions  which  nature  implanted  and  time  is  developing.  Greed 
can  no  more  be  eradicated  from  the  naturally  covetous  than 
care-taking  can  be  imbued  into  the  naturally  wasteful. 


158  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"Josephus  tells  us  that  the  first  man  born  upon  the  earth 
was  'wholly  intent  upon  getting.'  His  brother,  being  less  am- 
bitious and  more  inclined  to  take  life  easy,  preferred  the  shade 
to  sunshine  and  sweat.  The  difference  between  the  two,  even 
now,  is  said  to  be  only  sixpence,  and  the  lazy  one  oftener  gets 
it.  This  travesty  upon  industry  is  the  sorry  outcome  of  that 
philosophy  which  ignores  Cause  and  panders  to  the  baser  pas- 
sions of  human  nature.  The  story  of  the  Prodigal  Son  is  a 
remonstrant  against  effort,  as  the  doctrine  of  Repentance  is  an 
encouragement  to  sin. 

''When  St.  Patrick  preached  the  Gospel  on  Tarah  Hill  to 
Leoghaire,  the  Irish  King,  the  Druids  and  wise  men  of  Ireland 
shook  their  heads.  'Why,'  asked  the  King,  'does  what  the  cleric 
preaches  seem  so  dangerous  to  you?' 

"  'Because,'  was  the  answer,  'he  preaches  repentance,  and  the 
law  of  repentance  is  such  that  a  man  shall  say,  "I  may  commit 
a  thousand  crimes,  and  if  I  repent  I  shall  be  forgiven,  and  it 
will  be  no  worse  with  me ;  therefore,  I  will  continue  to  sin."  ' 

"The  Druids  argued  logically,  and  the  same  reasoning  infests 
the  church  at  the  present  day.  An  old  reprobate,  of  good 
standing  in  the  church,  being  reprimanded  for  his  flagrant  im- 
morality, hooted  at  the  idea,  and  said,  'That's  nothing;  I  have 
the  faith.'  And,  so  it  is,  when  a  religious  sentiment  panders 
to  the  baser  passions  of  men,  we  have  an  additional  cause,  or 
a  stronger  link  forged  into  the  chain  for  the  propagation  of 
crime." 

At  this  point  the  traveler  raised  an  objection.  He  inter- 
rupted the  schoolmaster  in  his  discourse  by  saying: 

"When  Judas  saM^  that  Christ  was  condemned,  it  is  said  of 
him  that  he  repented  of  what  he  had  done.  He  was  mightily 
afflicted  in  his  mind  about  it,  and  wished  it  had  not  been  done. 
But  his  repentance  arises  from  a  fear  of  the  punishment  de- 
nounced against  sin,  and  is  not  accompanied  Avith  hatred  of  sin ; 
as  when  a  malefactor  suffers  for  his  crimes,  he  reflects  upon  his 
actions  with  sorrow,  but  this  not  being  a  sacred  act,  but  pro- 
ceeding from  a  violent  principle,  is  consistent  with  as  great  a 
love  to  sin  as  he  had  before,  and  may  be  entirely  terminated  on 


From  Bophood  to  Manhood.  159 

himself;  lie  may  be  sorry  for  his  crimes,  as  they  have  exposed 
him  to  pmiishment,  and  yet  not  be  grieved  that  thereby  he  has 
offended  God. 

''This  is  legal  repentance. 

"For  that  saving  grace  wrought  in  the  soul  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  whereby  a  sinner  is  made  to  see  and  be  sensible  of  his  sin, 
is  grieved  and  humbled  before  God  on  account  of  it,  not  so  much 
for  the  punishment  to  which  sin  has  made  him  liable,  as  that 
thereby  God  is  dishonored  and  offended,  his  laws  violated,  and 
his  OAvn  soul  polluted  and  defiled ;  and  this  grief  arises  from  love 
to  God,  and  is  accompanied  with  a  hatred  to  sin,  a  love  of  holi- 
ness, and  a  fixed  resolution  to  forsake  sin,  and  an  expectation 
of  favor  and  forgiveness  through  the  merits  of  Christ.  This  is 
evangelical  or  gospel  repentance.  And  this  is  the  repentance 
preached  by  St.  Patrick  on  Tarah  Hill — repentance  to  reforma- 
tion." 

"Ah !"  exclaimed  the  teacher,  "repentance  to  refonnation  !  If 
reformation  is  the  essential  outcome  of  true,  or  gospel  repent- 
ance, then  the  word  repentance  might  well  be  stricken  from 
the  text,  and  reformation  put  in  its  place;  but  does  the  sacred 
writer  really  mean  reformation,  when  he  exhorts  to  repent- 
ance? If  so,  then,  the  thief  on  the  Cross  must  have  made  an 
exception,  as  he  had  no  opportunity  to  reform." 

"N'o  doubt,"  replied  the  traveler,  "but  the  thief,  had  he  had 
the  opportmiity,  would  have  reformed,  as  the  Savior  recog- 
nized his  as  evangelical  repentance;  but  when  Jeremiah  was 
pleading  the  cause  of  his  people,  God  said  to  him : 

"  'Thou  hast  forsaken  me,  thou  art  gone  backward ;  therefore  will 
I  stretch  out  my  hand  against  thee,  and  destroy  thee;  I  am  weary 
with  repenting.' 

"That  kind  of  repentance  is  wearisome  now,  and  God  has  no 
more  patience  with  it  than  lie  had  in  the  days  of  Jeremiah. 
Whoever  relies  upon  that  will  be  left,  whether  he  stands  well 
in  the  church  or  not.  Gospel  repentance  is  accompanied  by 
regeneration,  and  where  a  man  loved  sin  before,  he  now  loathes 
and  hates  it !  'for  godly  sorrow  worketh  repentance  to  salva- 
tion not  to  be  repented  of :  but  the  sorrow  of  the  world  worketh 
death.'  " 


160  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

Teacher. — "Your  argiiment  is  logical  and  your  illustrations 
apt,  but  when  you  presume  to  say  the  thief  would  have  reformed 
had  the  chance  been  given  him,  you  pass  from  rational  argu- 
ment to  casuistry.  The  conscience  of  the  thief  was  only  known 
to  himself,  and  the  promise  made  by  the  Savior  simply  shove's 
his  extreme  benevolence  and  pity  for  a  fellow-sufferer.  The 
case  of  Judas,  to  a  court  of  inquiry,  would  seem  much  nearer 
gospel  repentance  than  that  of  the  thief.  Judas  was  not  only 
sorry  for  his  crime,  but  made  what  restitution  he  was  able  to, 
by  returning  the  silver  pieces ;  and  still,  not  having  his  con- 
science satisfied,  brooded  over  his  sin  until  remorse  drove  him 
to  suicide.  You  may  call  this  a  cowardly  act;  you  may  repro- 
bate the  sinner,  and  withdraw  from  him  all  sympathy;  you  may 
loathe  and  despise,  execrate  and  condemn ;  you  may  call  to 
mind  all  the  horrors  of  Dante's  Inferno,  and  implore  the  de- 
stroying Angel  for  additions  to  this  maelstrom  of  sin,  and  you 
may  consign  the  soul  of  Judas  to  this  pit,  but  you  must  re- 
member that  his  act  was  by  the   '^determinate  counsel  and 

FOREKNOWLEDGE   OF   GoD.'." 

"My  dear  friend,"  replied  the  traveler,  "I  am  not  here  to 
pass  sentence  upon  a  fellow-sinner.  Judas,  like  the  rest  of 
us,  is  in  the  hands  of  God,  and  whatever  He  does  is  right.  In 
one  sense  I  have  the  spirit  of  Job :  'Though  He  slay  me,  yet 
Avill  I  trust  in  Him,'  but  I  have  not  the  consciousness  of  being 
upright  like  Job ;  I  cannot  maintain  mine  own  ways  before 
him ;  rather,  like  the  publican,  I  continually  cry,  'God  be  merci- 
ful to  me,  a  sinner.'  I  was  only  trying  to  make  plain  the 
difference  between  gospel  and  legal  repentance — the  saving 
power  of  the  one  and  the  inefficiency  of  the  other.  Christ 
kncAV  the  heart  of  the  thief,  or  he  never  would  have  made  him 
the  promise." 

They  had  now  reached  the  post-office,  and  after  securing  the 
mail  and  taking  a  short  rest,  they  retraced  their  steps  toward 
home.  The  schoolmaster's  mind  was  still  on  the  philosophy  of 
human  nature,  and  as  they  leisurely  walked  back,  the  conversa- 
tion was  confined  to  man  in  his  maturity.  This  being  the  time 
when  the  human  being,  if  ever,  is  free  and  responsible,  will 
be  minutely  considered  in  the  next  chapter. 


Manhood.  161 

CHAPTER  XV. 

MANHOOD. 

The  stroll  toward  home  was  commenced  in  silence.  The 
schoolmaster  was  thinking,  and  his  companion  was  enjoying  the 
relief  ever  attendant  npon  motion.  The  discussion  of  metaphy- 
sical subtilties  w^as  of  less  consequence  to  the  wayfarer  than 
procuring  relief  from  his  infirmity.  Years  ago  he  had  waded 
through  the  philosophies  of  all  creeds ;  had  steeped  his  mind 
with  every  thought,  from  savage  to  sage;  had  studied  the 
"hoodoo"  of  Africa,  and  the  metaphysics  of  Calvin ;  had  dwelt 
in  the  penetralia  mentis  of  Kant,  and  slept  on  the  couch  of 
Transcendentalism.  He  was  surfeited  with  thought,  and  had 
rejected  all  human  philosophies.  His  experience  outweighed 
his  reason.  The  little  "white  stone"  and  the  new  name  written 
therein  was  the  summum  honum  of  all  things  to  him;  yet  he 
was  patient,  tolerant,  and  ever  ready  to  accommodate,  either 
in  word  or  deed.  He  pitied  the  schoolmaster  from  the  bottom 
of  his  soul,  and  continually  prayed  that  the  Spirit  might  give 
him  the  "name  which  no  man  knoweth  saving  he  that  receiv- 
eth  it." 

At  last  the  silence  was  broken ;  the  teacher  spoke  as  if  to  him- 
self, and  with  a  loud  voice,  exclaimed,  "Manhood!  the  flower, 
the  fruit,  the  culmination  of  human  life !  The  output  of 
the  Triune  Godhead  in  coimcil !  What  a  grand  theme  is  man ! 
What  a  mystery  to  himself,  what  a  puzzle  to  his  Maker!  The 
image  of  God  himself ;  no  wonder  he  is  incomprehensible !  Let 
us  analyze,  if  we  can,  this  masterpiece  of  Creation. 

"The  child,  the  boy,  the  youth  are  the  rungs  of  the  ladder 
to  manhood — io  manhood,  the  enigma,  the  riddle,  the  puzzle — 
the  Hyrcanian  wood  of  human  philosophy.  We  observe  the 
form,  we  see  the  body,  we  come  in  contact  with  the  material — the 
flesh;  but  we  think  the  man — the  Ego.  We  look  at  the  hand, 
we  handle  the  foot,  we  observe  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  nose,  the 
features;  we  dissect  and  analyze  the  arteries,  the  veins,  the 
nerves,  and  the  organs  of  digestion ;  we  look  at  the  heart  and 
note  its  wonderful  work,  its  power,  its  never  ceasing  pulsation ; 

11 


162  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

we  understand  liow,  and  wliv,  the  lungs  take  in  and  throw  out 
air;  we  note  the  reproductive  organs,  and  we  are  amazed  and 
bewildered  at  their  function.  We  then  go  into  the  inner  Ar- 
canum of  life,  the  throne-room  of  the  Ego — the  Holy  of  Holies, 
where  the  spirit  dwells,  and  we  find  it  vacant. 

''The  veil  of  the  temple  has  been  torn  and  the  Shechinah  is 
no  longer  there.  The  man  is  gone  back  to  his  Father's  house, 
and  there  we  can  behold  him  only  with  the  eye  of  faith. 

"But,  first,  let  us  endeavor  to  find  out  in  what  part  of  this 
house  of  flesh  the  Ego  made  its  special  abode. 

"On  another  occasion  you  said,  'The  mind  understands 
other  things,  hut  accepts  itself — as  good  as  to  say,  the  mind 
cannot  investigate  itself.  I  am  not  ready  to  agree  to  such  an 
assertion,  and  rather  think  that,  by  excluding  certain  por- 
tions of  the  body,  and  by  a  proper  introspection,  we  may,  at 
least,  locate  the  particular  organ  with  which  the  Ego  is  most 
intimately  connected.  We  look  at  the  foot,  and  at  once  recog- 
nize its  particular  function.  We  examine  the  hand,  and  we  find 
it  a  tool,  an  implement  for  executing  the  commands  of  the  mind. 
We  view  the  heart,  and  find  it  a  double-acting  compound  pump 
for  the  blood;  the  arteries  and  veins  are  the  irrigating  canals 
of  the  body,  and  the  intestinal  tract  is  the  great  river  of  com- 
merce, as  it  were,  to  bring  in  supplies,  and  rid  the  body  of 
waste  material.  The  liver  is  an  immense  chemical  and  physi- 
ological laboratory,  where  antiseptics  are  prepared  and  poison- 
ous germs  are  destroyed.  The  whole  body  below  the  head  is 
a  material  organization,  and  governed  entirely  in  its  various 
functions  by  physical  laws.  Let  the  mind  of  any  man  think  of 
its  habitation,  and  see  if  it  will  locate  it  in  the  foot,  hand,  heart, 
liver,  or  intestinal  canal.  Think  of  your  own  Ego,  and  ask 
yourself  where  it  is.  Interrogate  any  functioning  organ  above 
the  Adam's  apple,  and  see  if  you  can  analyze  the  product.  The 
product  of  the  liver  is  bile;  that  of  the  kidneys,  urine;  that  of 
the  stomach,  digestive  juices.  All  these  products  can  be  seen, 
handled,  and  reduced  to  their  component  elements ;  but  wdiat 
of  sight,  sound,  smelling,  and  tasting?  Can  they  be  put  in  a 
crucible  and  analyzed,  or  into  a  retort  and  distilled  into  some^ 
thing  else?  Can  you  find  an  element  of  matter  in  sound,  or  a 
ponderable  molecule  in  sight?     Is  it  possible  to   convert   one 


Manhood.  163 

odor  into  another  by  chemical  reaction?  Can  salt  be  made  to 
taste  like  sugar  by  manipulation  ?  It  is  a  fact  that  a  pleasant 
odor  can  be  changed  into  a  vile  one  by  imagination,  and  vice 
versa:  but  what  is  imagination? 

"In  the  head  we  come  in  contact  with  something  besides 
matter.  Matter  alone  cannot  produce  sight,  sound,  taste,  or 
smell.  Sensation  is  not  an  attribute  of  matter;  neither  is 
thought.  It  is  believed  that  the  ultimate  particles,  the  atoms 
of  matter,  are  eternally  in  motion ;  but  is  motion  an  attribute  of 
matter?  There  is  no  evidence  of  that  fact.  Then,  what  shall 
we  do?  Give  up  and  stop  investigation?  No,  we  should  seek 
for  truth,  and  seek  it  rationally  from  the  evidence  we  have. 
Socrates  taught  us  exclusion ;  Bacon,  induction.  The  human 
mind  is  not  limited  in  its  power  of  inquiry.  Start  with  what 
we  know,  and  reason  logically,  and  if  we  do  not  find  truth,  it 
is  nowhere  to  be  found. 

"In  brain  matter  we  have  a  substance  differing  from  all 
other  combinations  of  matter.  The  chemist  has  almost  been 
baffled  in  his  attempts  to  analyze  this  substance.  Its  constitu- 
ents are  of  a  very  complex  character,  easily  undergoing  de- 
composition, and,  being  compounded  largely  of  carbon  and 
hydrogen,  have  a  high  oxidation  value.  That  waste  and  re- 
pair, from  functional  activity,  go  on  in  the  brain,  as  in  other 
organs,  is  a  demonstrable  fact.  That  mind  and  brain  are  in- 
timately connected  is  no  longer  questioned;  but  as  cause  and 
effect,  is  a  very  doubtful  proposition.  "We  cannot  affirm  that 
the  mind  is  a  secretion  of  the  brain,  as  bile  is  a  secretion  of  the 
liver,  neither  can  we  say  that  brain  is  the  efficient  cause  of 
mind.  Bile  and  liver  are  both  material  substances,  and  both 
may  be  reduced  to  their  component  elements.  Brain-substance 
is  matter  in  combination,  extremely  complex  and  obscure,  but 
nothing  more  than  matter.  Is  mind  matter?  If  so,  life  is  mat- 
ter, and  there  is  no  God.  The  mind  of  man  will  not  agree  to 
this.  That  there  are  at  least  two  different  substances  com- 
posing this  universe  is  a  self-evident  proposition — matter  and 
spirit,  intimately  associated,  but  never  forming  a  combination. 
We  recognize  matter  in  its  infinite  combinations,  but  spirit 
is  held  to  be  an  uncompounded  essence;  and  while  it  cannot 
be  disintegrated  into  elementary  forms,  it  manifests  itself  in 


164  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

ways  as  ininmierable  as  that  of  matter.  What  is  life,  but 
spirit  operating  through  matter?  The  myriad  forms  of  life 
alone  would  compare  numerically  wnth  the  different  combina- 
tions of  matter;  and  then  the  infinite  number  of  manifestations 
resulting  from  life  would  swell  the  aggregate  to  all  the  chemical 
unions  in  the  universe.  Natural  philosophers  have  held  that 
it  is  not  improbable  that  all  the  infinitely  varied  forms  of 
matter  may  be,  and  probably  are,  nothing  more  than  the  in- 
finite variations  of  one  primordial  element.  This  idea  is  not 
so  ill-founded  as  might  appear  from  our  present  knowledge  of 
chemistry.  The  high  temperatures  developed  by  the  electrical 
furnace  and  the  intense  cold  made  manifest  by  liquefying  air 
are  working  revolutions  in  chemistry  not  dreamed  of  a  few 
years  ago;  and  the  alchemist's  dream  of  the  transmutation  of 
metals  may  yet  be  more  than  a  dream. 

"If  there  is  a  point  in  natural  philosophy  which  may  be 
regarded  as  finally  settled,  it  is  the  imperishability  of  the  chem- 
ical elements  and  the  everlasting  duration  of  force.  This  means 
that  with  all  the  changes  going  on  in  the  universe  there  is  no 
destruction^no  annihilation.  Matter  cannot  be  stricken  from 
existence,  neither  can  force.  The  mind  of  man,  the  life  of  ani- 
mals and  plants,  the  movements  of  the  amoebae,  the  oscillations 
of  the  ultimate  atoms  of  matter,  are  all  forces  which  never 
cease  to  exist,  and  which  it  is  impossible  to  destroy.  The  in- 
numerable combinations  and  manifestations  of  matter  are  the 
output  of  the  one  primordial  element;  and  so  the  infinite  vari- 
ations of  force  proceed  from  the  One  Great  Force,  or  Spirit, 
which  is  God.  It  is  held  that  matter  itself  is  an  emanation 
from  God,  or  that  God  created  matter  out  of  nothing;  but 
this  idea  seems  to  me  to  be  out  of  spnpathy  with  what  we 
know  of  the  universe,  and  the  Power  that  rules  it.  'In  the 
beginning  God  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth.'  This  first 
sentence  of  the  sacred  writer  conveys  no  intelligent  conception 
to  the  reader,  but  rather  opens  the  way  for  unanswerable  ques- 
tioning. If  there  was  a  beginning,  there  was  a  time  before 
the  beginning.  It  is  impossible  that  time  could  have  had  a 
beginning.  Now,  if  God  and  matter  had  a  beginning,  before 
this  beginning  there  was  nothing  but  time.  Time,  in  an  ab- 
stract sense,  is  nothing;  therefore,  if  God  and  matter  had  a 


Manhood.  165 

beginning,  before  they  began  to  be  there  was  nothing.  Out  of 
nothing,  nothing  can  come;  therefore,  there  never  was  a  time 
when  God,  at  least,  did  not  exist.  If  there  ever  was  a  time 
when  matter  did  not  exist,  during  that  time  God  was  idle,  for 
he  works  only  through  matter;  in  fact,  there  is  nothing  else 
through  which  he  can  work.  To  say  God  ever  spent  his  time  in 
idleness  is  an  assumption  of  man's  ignorance;  therefore,  the 
only  rational  conclusion  is  that  God  and  matter  are  both  self- 
existent,  coexistent,  and  eternal.  Now,  if  God  and  matter 
have  both  existed  from  all  eternity,  there  clearly  was  a  time 
when  God  began  to  create  the  universe — not  out  of  nothing, 
but  out  of  matter  coexisting  with  himself :  and  that  time  may 
reasonably  be  spoken  of  as  the  'beginning'  in  Genesis.  To  ask 
when  the  time  of  that  'beginning'  was  is  an  idle  question,  but 
it  is  self-evident  that  the  workman  and  the  material  must 
exist  before  the  mechanism  can  commence.  The  conclusion, 
then,  is  that  God  and  matter  have  both  existed  from  all  eternity, 
and  that  God,  by  his  infinite  power  and  knowledge,  has  fash- 
ioned the  universe  and  all  it  contains  just  as  he  wanted  it,  and 
to  suit  himself. 

"Amongst  the  various  combinations  of  matter  he  has  seen  fit 
to  arrange,  we  find  the  especial  combination  known  as  brain- 
substance.  This  substance  is  found  in  the  skulls  of  all  ani- 
mals, birds,  fishes,  and  many  insects.  It  is  only  in  the  lowest 
forms  of  the  animated  creation  where  traces  of  this  substance 
cannot  be  found.  The  substance  itself,  no  matter  whether  in 
man,  beast,  or  bird,  has  nearly  the  same  composition,  is  ar- 
ranged in  much  the  same  manner,  and  is  only  different  in 
quality,  quantity,  and  function.  ISTow,  the  difference  in  the 
ego  of  every  animated  creature,  from  man  down  to  the  lowest, 
is  the  difference  in  brain-substance.  If  God  has  seen  fit  to  so 
arrange  atoms  and  molecules  into  a  substance  that  will  reflect 
certain  attributes  of  his  substance,  in  the  conscious  life  of  the 
creatures  of  his  own  handiwork,  thereby  projecting  himself,  or 
certain  attributes  of  himself,  into  the  lives  of  his  own  creatures, 
who  shall  reply  against  God?  What  objection  to  the  thought 
that  he  has  so  arranged  the  brain  of  the  St.  Bernard  dog  that 
that  brain  can  appropriate,  collect,  and  make  manifest  one  of 
the  noblest  traits  of  the  Deity,  and  send  this  humble  servitor 


166  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

upon  a  mission  from  tlie  high  Court  of  Heaven  to  save  from 
cold  and  hunger  and  death  the  wayfarer  who  has  lost  his  path 
in  the  Alpine  snoAv?  Is  the  thought  heretical  or  sacrilegious, 
to  suppose  the  song  of  the  nightingale  or  the  mocking-bird 
to  be  a  discordant  note  of  the  Celestial  Choir,  tinkling  through 
the  brains  of  these  musicians  of  the  Avoods?  Who  shall  say 
nay  to  the  suggestion  that  the  brain  matter  of  the  elephant, 
the  horse,  the  camel,  the  ostrich,  and  the  camivora  are  machines 
for  the  collection  of  fragmentary  attributes  of  the  Deity  him- 
self, and  making  so  much  of  him  manifest  in  the  conscious  lives 
of  these  animals?  Is  God  a  material  being,  to  be  dismembered 
by  such  a  thought?  Away  with  your  anthropomorphism! 
God  is  a  spirit ;  God  is  light ;  God  is  love ;  so  says  the  inspired 
writer.  Can  spirit  suffer  disintegration  or  dismemberment? 
Does  the  light  of  the  sun  become  less  by  striking  a  match,  or 
lighting  a  candle?  Can  love  be  diminished  by  division?  An- 
other thing :  the  instinct  of  the  hive-bee,  which  enables  the  little 
insect  to  construct  with  mathematical  nicety  the  cells  of  its 
comb,  thereby  utilizing  space  with  as  much  economy  as  the 
finest  and  most  accomplished  engineer,  is  only  a  manifestation 
of  God  in  the  brain  of  the  little  worker.  And  so  it  is,  wherever 
God  has  implanted  life:  in  the  towering  oak  and  the  trailing 
vine ;  in  the  flower  and  the  fruit ;  in  the  microbe  and  the 
amcebse — life  and  all  attributes  of  life  can  be  nothing  more  than 
Deity  manifesting  himself.  It  may  be  objected  to  this  view 
that,  thereby,  God  would  become  the  author  of  evil — that  the 
birds  of  prey,  the  carnivorous  animals,  the  fishes,  reptiles  and 
the  poisonous  serpent  would  be  manifestations  of  his  Spirit. 
Why  not?  If  God's  attributes  are  limited  to  power  and  knowl- 
edge, goodness,  mercy,  justice,  and  love,  how  is  man  to  reflect 
his  image?  Is  he  any  more  just  than  the  wild  beast  of  the 
fprest?  Is  he  merciful  to  the  weak?  Does  he  love  his  fellow- 
man?  Eead  his  history  in  his  wars  of  conquest.  See  the 
tortures  he  has  inflicted  upon  innocence  and  helplessness.  Be- 
hold the  implements  of  destruction  he  has  invented,  by  means 
of  which  God's  guiltless  creatures  are  slaughtered  and  his 
own  kind  murdered.  If  man  is  the  complete  image  of  God — 
then,  who  can  find  fault  with  the  savage  beast  being  a  part 
of  his  image?     Man  has  made  the  mistake  of  believing  he  is 


Manhood.  167 

the  only  image  of  God — the  personification  of  his  Maker  upon 
earth.  The  truth  is,  God,  in  making  the  brain  of  man,  gave  it 
the  right  of  usufruct  to  one  attribute  of  the  divine  essence, 
denied  to  the  lower  animals ;  and  this  right  makes  the  differ- 
ence between  him  and  the  brute.  God  is  too  great,  and  too 
powerful,  and  too  perfect  for  man  to  be  his  sole  representative. 
If  the  whole  miiverse  of  matter  was  converted  into  one  mass 
of  brain-substance,  it  might  represent  all  the  attributes  of 
Deity;  but  the  brain  of  man  falls  as  far  short  of  this  rep- 
resentation as  it  falls  short  of  the  size  and  weight  of  the  uni- 
verse. It  is  no  sacrilege  to  assert  that  God  is  manifested  in 
the  voracious  shark,  the  venomous  serpent,  and  the  loathsome 
reptile.  If  these  creatures  are  representatives  of  evil,  why 
should  man  assume  that  a  perfect  God  is  too  pure  for  such 
emanations  to  proceed  from  his  essence  when  his  word  is  di- 
rectly to  the  contrary  ?  'I  form  the  light  and  create  darkness ; 
I  make  peace  and  create  evil;  I,  the  Lord,  do  all  these  things.' 
Man's  brain  being  out  of  all  proportion  the  largest,  compared 
with  the  size  of  the  body,  of  all  God's  creatures,  we  would 
naturally  expect  him  to  be  endowed  with  more  of  the  attributes 
of  his  Maker,  and  represent  a  more  perfect  image  of  the  Divine 
essence.  In  addition  to  size,  we  have  range  of  capacity,  incom- 
parably greater  than  the  lower  animals.  The  brain  of  man 
is  so  constituted  as  to  enable  it  to  collect  or  to  make  manifest 
that  particular  divine  attribute  which  enables  him  to  think  on 
abstract  subjects,  and  which  adds  immeasurably  to  the  scope 
of  his  mental  attainments.  Reason  and  its  dependencies  form 
an  impassable  gulf  between  man  and  the  lower  animals.  The 
brute  brain,  by  the  arrangement  of  its  molecules,  or  by  the  fiat 
of  its  Maker,  has  the  power  to  develop  instinct,  a  faculty  as 
incomprehensible  to  man  as  reason  is  to  the  brute.  That  in- 
stinct is  an  attribute  of  God  is  as  patent  as  any  other  fact  in 
the  psychology  of  animated  nature.  If  God  had  seen  fit  to 
make  the  brain  of  man  as  perfect  for  the  development  of  rea- 
son as  he  made  the  brute  brain  for  the  development  of  instinct, 
moral  evil  would  have  been  an  impossibility  and  mechanical 
failures  never  have  existed.  Man  would  have  been  a  perfect 
being,  and  he  would  have  needed  no  teacher.  The  Creator 
showed  his  wisdom  here,  as  in  all  his  other  works ;  for  in  mak- 


168  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

ing  man  lie  clearly  wanted  a  creature  who,  by  his  own  exertions, 
could  make  endless  progress,  and  by  bis  failures  gain  wisdom, 

"The  mythical  Garden  of  Eden  is  only  the  spectral  image 
of  that  imperfect  brain  cell,  endeavoring  to  parallel  its  own 
weakness  with  the  perfect  wisdom  of  God.  And  so  with  the 
attributes  of  Deity  as  enumerated  by  the  orthodox  theologian. 
He  is  curtailed  and  limited  to  that  extent  that  they  found 
it  necessary  to  invent  the  devil  to  account  for  the  irregularities 
of  the  Universe.  'The  foolishness  of  God  is  wiser  than  men,' 
and  to  limit  him  in  any  conceivable  attribute  is  to  detract 
from  his  perfection,  and  to  think  of  him  as  a  mere  man. 

"This  theory  of  the  functional  activity  of  brain-substance 
has  its  parallel  in  the  workings  of  the  various  machines  for 
the  development  of  the  electrical  force,  and  if  faulty,  it  is  at 
least  as  plausible  as  any  heretofore  set  forth.  It  explains,  not 
how,  but  why,  and  through  what  particular  organ  the  Deity 
manifests  himself  to  his  rational  creatures,  and  simplifies  that 
psychological  indagation  so  earnestly  pursued  by  students  of 
nature.  It  also  rids  the  mind  of  all  anthropomorphic  ideas, 
and  j)laces  God  on  a  plane  so  far  above  man  that  such  expres- 
sions as  'Thou  shalt  see  my  back  parts ;  but  my  face  shall  not 
be  seen,'  will  be  relegated  to  the  Apocrypha,  and  the  Sacred 
Volume  purged  of  the  embarrassing  phraseology  which  leans 
toward  ridicule  and  contempt." 

Here  the  traveler,  entered  his  protest  against  this  continua- 
tion of  the  material  philosophy,  and  the  endeavor  of  his  ra- 
tionalistic friend  to  push  reason  into  the  inner  arcanum  of  a 
subject  which  nothing  but  Revelation  can  bring  to  light. 

In  the  next  chapter  a  review  of  the  schoolmaster's  position 
will  be  entered  into,  and  the  true  Christian  philosophy  set  forth 
by  the  man  whose  experience  outweighs  his  reason. 


Matter  and  Spirit  169 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MATTER    AND    SPIRIT. 

The  walk  toward  Lome  was  about  half  finished,  aud  the 
traveler  had  become  so  interested  in  the  schoolmaster's  dis- 
course that  he  had  forgotten  his  grievance,  and,  notwithstand- 
ing his  settled  conviction  that  human  philosophy  was  a  delu- 
sion, he  could  see  some  points  in  the  old  man's  theory  that 
appeared  neither  to  antagonize  Revelation  nor  to  outrage  com- 
mon sense.  He  felt  that  the  schoolmaster  was  leaning  a  little 
to  the  side  of  Orthodoxy,  and  he  desired  to  encourage  that 
spiritual  growth,  the  germ  of  which  lay  fallow  in  the  mind  of 
the  teacher.     To  this  end  he  spoke  as  follows : 

"My  friend,  you  are  more  of  a  metaphysician  than  a  theo- 
logian. You  contend  for  mere  abstractions,  and  blind  yourself 
with  illusions  flowing  from  the  self-conscious  life  of  active  in- 
telligence; aud  in  your  attempt  to  harmonize  our  thought  of 
our  relation  to  God,  you  conjure  up  a  phantasm  of  the  imagi- 
uation,  and  flourish  it  about  as  a  rational  principle  of  the  laws 
of  causation.  Your  theory  of  the  functional  activity  of  brain- 
substance  is  a  mere  shadow  of  the  mind  groping  in  darkness, 
and  the  metaphysical  necessity  following  that  shadow  is  a 
chimerical  abstraction  leading  to  the  great  primeval  ITothing. 
You  would  blot  out  the  personality  of  God  and  plot  a  Pan- 
theistic Syncretism.  You  would  annul  his  creative  acts  and 
make  man  a  phenomenon  of  Evolution.  This  would  destroy 
individuality  and  place  the  human  soul  in  the  category  of  in- 
sect and  plant  life.  You  preach  Dualism,  with  a  mixture  of 
Pantheism.  You  labor  under  the  capital  vice  of  attempting 
to  bring  within  the  forms  of  the  understanding  what  tran- 
scends the  capacity  of  thought. 

"For  ages,  philosophers,  instead  of  interpreting  aright  the 
fact  of  consciousness  in  external  perception,  laid  it  down  as 
a  first  principle  that  the  object  known  was  different  from  the 
object  perceived.  This  crotchet,  accepted  without  examina- 
tion and  transmitted  in  different  forms,  was  never  questioned 
until  it  brought  forth  the  fruit  of  universal  skepticism.  In 
the  same  way,  the  principle  that  out  of  nothing,  nothing  can 


170  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

be  made,  has  been  universally  applied  to  nothing  as  material 
cause,  and  has  not  only  excluded  the  possibility  of  creation, 
but  contains  in  its  bosom  the  seeds  of  absolute  atheism. 

"Subject  and  object,  mind  and  matter,  as  revealed  in  con- 
sciousness, though  real  substances,  are  limited,  conditioned,  de- 
pendent. They  reciprocally  condition  each  other.  They  are 
bound  by  time  and  space.  The  world  presents  an  aspect  of 
mutability,  a  successive  influence  of  cause  and  effect,  a  constant 
interchange  of  action  and  reaction.  Its  history  is  a  histoiy  of 
vicissitudes.  The  world  is  finite.  This  is  as  clearly  the  testi- 
mony of  consciousness  as  that  the  Avorld  exists.  It  has  no  prin- 
ciple in  it  that  resists  succession  and  change.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  bound  to  time,  which  necessarily  implies  both.  These 
two  facts,  that  the  world  exists  and  that  the  world  is  finite, 
imply  another,  that  the  world  must  have  begun.  A  succession 
without  a  beginning  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  It  is  equiva- 
lent to  eternal  time.  A  being  of  whose  existence  time  is  the 
law  cannot  be  eternal.  A  chain  without  a  first  link  is  impossi- 
ble, but  a  first  link  annihilates  the  notion  of  eternal  being. 
The  world,  therefore,  had  a  beginning. 

"Having  reached  this  point,  we  are  led  to  an  inevitable  dis- 
junction. If  it  had  a  beginning,  it  began  spontaneously,  or  it 
sprang  from  a  cause.  An  absolute  commencement  is  not  only 
inconceivable,  but  contradictory  to  that  great  law  of  intelligence 
which  demands  for  every  new  appearance  a  cause.  The  world, 
therefore,  must  have  been  caused,  but  a  cause  which  begins 
existence,  creates ;  therefore,  the  world  must  have  been  created. 

"There  is  still  another  step  which  we  are  authorized  to  take. 
As  the  finite  is  limited  to  time,  and  as  time  begins  with  the 
finite,  the  being  who  creates  must  be  independent  of  time.  That 
the  first  creature  should  have  been  made  by  a  finite  being,  is 
equivalent  to  saying  that  time  was  before  it  began.  It  is,  there- 
fore, a  contradiction  in  terms,  to  attribute  all  beginning  to  the 
begim.  The  Creator,  therefore,  must  be  eternal  and  necessary. 
Creation  makes  the  transition  from  nothing  to  something; 
hence,  creation  as  an  unconditioned  exercise  of  power;  as  re- 
quiring neither  material,  instrument,  nor  laws;  as  transcending 
change,  modifications,  or  adjustments  of  existing  things,  is  the 


Matter  and  Spirit.  171 

sole  prerogative  of  God.  It  is  His  to  create,  as  it  is  His  to 
destroy.     The  principle  is  vital  in  theology." 

The  two  men  had  now  reached  a  shady  place  in  the  road 
close  to  a  stream  of  water;  and  the  day  being  sultry,  they  de- 
cided to  rest  a  bit  before  concluding  their  walk.  After  bath- 
ing face  and  hands  in  the  stream,  they  seated  themselves  under 
a  spreading  beech  tree  to  enjoy  the  refreshing  breeze.  The 
schoolmaster  was  a  great  admirer  of  Socrates,  and  endeavored 
in  many  ways  to  follow  the  example  of  the  illustrious  Greek. 
Like  him,  he  never  harangued  or  grew  eloquent,  but  analyzed, 
disputed,  and  discussed.  He  asserted  that  all  truth  is  kindred, 
and  so  clear  thinking  is  consistent  with  holiness  and  leads  to 
it,  while  inaccurate  thinking  on  any  subject  is  morally  danger- 
ous, and  an  uncertainty  or  falsehood  in  the  intellect  might 
at  last  be  found  to  be  the  "apex  of  hell."  The  orthodox  view 
of  the  creation  of  the  universe  and  the  beginning  of  time  pre- 
sented so  many  difficulties  to  a  mind  like  his  that  he  rejected 
the  tenet  as  derogatory  to  God  and  inconsistent  with  the  nature 
of  matter  and  spirit. 

"If,"  said  he,  to  his  companion,  "God  created  matter  out  of 
nothing,  he  created  freely  or  he  acted  under  compulsion  or 
necessity.  If  he  created  under  necessity,  he  is  not  free,  but  the 
subject  of  some  other  power,  and  is,  therefore,  neither  Sover- 
eign nor  Almighty.  But  God  is  free,  almighty,  sovereign,  ab- 
solute; therefore,  his  acts  of  creation  were  voluntary — uncon- 
ditioned save  by  his  own  will.  The  nature  of  matter  is  such 
as  to  be  incompatible  with  infinite  goodness,  infinite  benev- 
olence and  omnipotence.  The  vile  combinations  it  assumes, 
the  poisonous  germs  it  evolves,  and  its  offensiveness  under  putre- 
factive processes,  make  it  impossible  that  it  should  be  the  cre- 
ative act  of  God  without  making  God  the  author  of  evil.  The 
creation  of  matter  out  of  nothing  involves  another  difficulty 
at  variance  with  reason.  If  God  is  eternal  and  matter  is  not 
eternal,  there  clearly  was  a  period  when  nothing  existed  but 
God,  and  if  time  only  began  wnth  creation,  that  period  prior 
to  creation,  let  it  be  long  or  short,  is  unnamable  and  unthink- 
able. We  get  no  relief  by  calling  it  eternity.  A  period  prior 
to  time,  called  eternity,  in  which  nothing  existed  but  God, 
would  bring  up   such   questions   as.   What  was   God   doing   in 


172  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

this  eternity?  Was  lie  working  out  tlie  problem  of  creation? 
"Was  lie  formulating  laws  by  which  matter,  after  its  creation, 
should  be  governed?  Was  he  thinking  out  plants  and  animals 
and  men,  or  was  he  idly  contemplating  his  own  grandeur? 
The  very  thought  of  a  period  before  time  and  before  creation 
is  repugnant  to  the  common  sense  of  man.  Webster  defines 
time  as  absolute  or  unmeasured  duration.  Time,  it  seems  to 
me,  is  as  independent  of  God  as  God  is  of  time,  and  to  speak 
of  existence  before  time  is  simply  nonsense.  Time  has  ex- 
isted from  all  eternity  and  will  exist  to  all  eternity,  but  time 
is  neither  a  material  substance  nor  a  spiritual  essence.  It  is 
only  an  abstraction — a  mental  concept — and,  therefore,  can 
neither  be  created  nor  destroyed. 

"If  God  is  not  a  separate  existence  from  matter.  Pantheism 
is  the  true  philosophy  and  the  divine  religion ;  for,  if  matter 
is  an  emanation  from  God,  it  is  a  part  of  him,  and  if  he 
created  it  out  of  nothing,  he  is  the  father  of  it.  There  is  no 
process  of  reasoning  that  can  separate  God  from  matter,  and  at 
the  same  time  make  him  the  author  of  it.  The  postulate,  that 
God  and  matter  are  coexistent  and  eternal,  makes  an  easy  ex- 
planation to  the  phenomena  of  the  universe.  The  chaos  of 
Genesis  is  the  state  in  which  matter  existed  before  God  set  to 
work  in  his  acts  of  creation.  It  is  neither  irreverent  nor  sacri- 
legious to  suppose  that  God  saw  the  'chaos,'  the  confusion, 
the  want  of  law,  the  omnium,  gatherum  in  which  the  particles 
of  matter  lay  inert,  lifeless,  powerless — 'without  form  and 
void' — and  that  by  his  omnipotent  and  omniscient  energy  he 
fashioned  and  created  the  universe  and  all  it  contains.  That  he 
made  the  best  universe  possible  out  of  the  materials  at  his  com- 
mand is  to  admit  his  infinite  goodness.  That  he  made  it  all 
to  suit  himself  is  to  admit  his  sovereignty. 

"If,  in  the  plenitude  of  his  infinite  benevolence,  he  saw  fit 
to  provide  means  of  communication  between  himself  and  his 
rational  creatures,  thereby  making  himself  partially  known  to 
the  highest  type  of  his  creations — man — he  was  compelled,  ne- 
cessitated, to  so  arrange  the  ultimate  particles  of  matter  into  a 
combination,  peculiarly  different  from  all  other  combinations, 
that  would  have  the  particular  quickening  power  of  collect- 
ing, absorbing,  or  making  manifest  so  much  and  no  more  of 


Matter  and  Spirit  173 

the  divine  attributes.  When  I  say,  God  was  under  the  neces- 
sity of  utilizing  matter  for  the  purpose  of  revealing  himself, 
I  only  mean  that  he  is  limited  to  the  possible ;  for  by  and 
through  matter  are  all  things  accomplished.  That  combination 
of  matter  known  as  brain-substance  is  the  medium  through 
which  he  has  chosen  to  communicate  with  man,  and  by  means 
of  this  substance  alone  has  he  made  it  possible  for  us  to  par- 
tially understand  his  nature  and  his  works.  A  creature  that 
could  understand  and  comprehend  the  Godhead  in  its  entirety 
would  have  required  all  the  matter  in  the  universe  to  be  made 
into  one  gigantic  man,  and  then,  instead  of  a  man,  there  would 
have  been  another  God;  so  you  see  the  utter  impossibility  of 
human  knowledge  ever  extending  to  a  full  acquaintance  with 
the  Deity.  But  through  brain-substance  certain  attributes  of 
the  Divine  Being  are  communicated  to  every  creature  that 
breathes  the  breath  of  life ;  and  the  quantity,  quality,  and  shape 
of  this  brain-mass  make  the  difference  between  the  different 
creatures  possessing  it.  If  this  theory  of  brain  function  be 
true,  then  the  psychical  life  of  every  creature  is  determined 
solely  by  the  size,  shape,  and  quality  of  its  brain;  and  to  say 
that  any  creature — man  not  excepted — can  be  other  than  just 
what  it  is,  is  to  say  that  its  brain-matter  can  be  changed  by  the 
creature  itself. 

"That  character  is  determined  by  brain  is  proved  in  so 
many  ways  that  argument  would  seem  supei*fluous,  were  it  not 
that  men  refuse  to  abide  by  reason  and  experience.  Hundreds 
of  instances  are  recalled  where  the  whole  character  of  the  man 
has  been  permanently  changed  by  injuries  to  the  brain ;  the 
honest  man  has  been  changed  into  a  thief ;  the  triithful  man 
into  a  liar;  the  moral  man  into  a  libertine;  the  industrious 
man  into  a  vagabond,  and  vice  versa.  Insanity  is  now  recog- 
nized by  physicians  as  the  effect  of  brain  lesion,  and  idiocy  we 
all  know  to  be  a  defect  in  brain-substance.  Horsemen  well 
know  that  the  vicious  habit  of  balking  is  often  cured  by  a 
smart  blow  over  the  head,  causing  slight  concussion  of  the 
brain. 

"!N'ow,  admitting  the  validity  of  your  reasoning,  that  'an 
absolute  commencement  is  not  only  inconceivable,  but  contrary 
to   that   great   law   of   intelligence   which   demands   for   every 


174  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

new  appearance  a  cause,'  I  submit  that  character  is  caused; 
that  the  efficient  cause  of  character  is  material,  and  that  ma- 
terial is  brain.  All  admit  that  the  dynamo  is  the  efficient 
cause  of  the  power  developed  from  the  intangible,  imponderable, 
incorporeal  and  tenuous  electric  fluid ;  but  the  dynamo  no  more 
creates  the  electric  fluid  than  the  brain  creates  mind.  The 
dynamo  simply  collects  into  an  individual  charge,  from  the 
great  source  of  supply,  and  makes  manifest  the  spark  or  the 
current,  just  as  brain  collects  from  the  Great  and  Universal 
Spirit  that  which  we  call  the  Ego,  the  person,  the  individual, 
the  man,  the  beast,  bird,  or  fish." 

"My  friend,"  broke  in  the  traveler,  "I  am  getting  impatient 
with  you.  At  times  you  speak  as  if  you  comprehended  some  of 
the  great  truths  of  Eevelation,  and  admitted  their  authen- 
ticity ;  at  others,  you  get  entirely  off  the  track  and  chase  a  phan- 
tasm of  the  imagination  under  the  guise  of  reason.  You  per- 
sist in  the  attempt  to  trace  the  vital  and  spiritual  inti'insical- 
ities  of  both  animal  and  vegetable  activity,  through  matter 
as  efficient  cause,  to  God  as  final  cause,  thereby  destroying 
naan's  personality  and  human  responsibility — placing  man  on 
the  same  footing  with  the  beast  and  vegetable,  and  making  God 
the  author  of  evil.  Go  to !  your  philosophy  is  not  only  infi- 
delity, but  absolute  atheism.  If  brain-substance  is  the  medium 
through  which  God  reveals  Himself  to  man,  and  by  your  theory 
it  would  require  all  the  matter  in  the  universe  to  be  formed 
into  a  gigantic  man  before  the  Deity  could  be  clearly  compre- 
hended, w-liat,  according  to  this  theory,  would  become  of  the 
divinity  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  that  fundamental  dogma  of  the 
Christian  religion — the  Holy  Trinity?  We  have  no  account  of 
the  brain  of  Christ  being  any  different  from  that  of  the  men 
of  His  day,  and  to  make  His  Sonship  depend  upon  the  size 
and  shape  of  His  brain  would  be  to  place  Him  on  an  equality 
with  the  balance  of  mankind.  It  would  make  Him  different 
from  the  ordinary  man  only  as  Goldsmith  was  different  from 
the  miser  Elwes,  or  as  St.  Paul  was  different  from  Rabelais. 

"In  me  is  a  perpetual  miracle,  and  a  living  witness  to  the 
supernatural  power  of  Christ;  and  if  He  be  not  risen  from 
the  dead,  then  'are  we  of  all  men  the  most  miserable.'  " 


Matter  and  Spirit.  175 

At  this  last  touch  of  evangelical  monomania,  the  schoolmas- 
ter's heart  began  to  thump,  and  his  excitable  brain  began  to 
conjure  up  scenes  of  Corybantic  extravagance,  little  in  accord 
with  the  calm,  philosophical  deportment  of  his  guest.  For  a 
moment  he  was  unable  to  speak.  The  conversations  had  been 
so  foreign  to  anything  Quixotic,  that  he  had  almost  forgotten 
the  crotchet  which  first  introduced  him  to  his  friend.  After 
a  little  reflection,  he  decided  to  pass  by  this  ethereal  fancy,  and 
draw  him  out  on  the  great  subject  of  Christ's  divinity. 


176  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

THE    DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

"I  WOULD  fain,"  began  the  teacher,  ''have  avoided  this  part 
of  the  subject,  as  we  can  have  no  foothold  in  a  philosophical 
discussion,  where  the  beginning  and  end,  necessarily,  rest  on 
testimony  which  is  valid  to  one  man  and  invalid  to  another. 
But  the  statements  in  the  testimony  we  have  so  conflict  with 
one  another  that  it  is  well  enough  to  balance  accounts  and  see 
which  side  is  the  heavier. 

"You  claim  that  Christ  is  a  Divine  person,  who  rose  from 
the  dead  after  being  crucified;  that  while  on  earth  he  wrought 
miracles  in  divers  ways  and  brought  the  dead  to  life;  the  Church 
claims  that  he  is  God — very  God. 

''The  testimony  of  a  person  on  trial  is  sometimes  of  more  im- 
portance than  that  of  outside  witnesses.  We  will  let  him  tes- 
tify in  his  own  behalf  on  this  most  vital  point. 

"It  is  very  clear  that  Jesus  claimed  to  be  the  Son  of  God, 
but  that  he  made  this  claim  in  any  other  sense  than  is  allow- 
able to  all  men,  has  never  been  satisfactorily  proven.  His  ene- 
mies drew  inferences  that  were  not  justifiable  by  his  words, 
and  his  friends  as  often  mistook  his  meaning.  The  Jews  set 
many  traps  to  convict  him  of  blasphemy,  and  as  they  had  a 
law  against  his  claim,  as  they  understood  it,  finally  succeeded 
in  passing  a  legal  sentence  which  insured  his  death.  At  his 
trial  the  high  priest  asked  him  this  question :  'Art  thou  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  the  Blessed  V  And  Jesus  said,  'I  am.'  This 
was  enough.  The  vote  was  unanimous  for  his  conviction  of 
blasphemy,  and  the  statute  against  blasphemy  was  death.  Every 
believer,  therefore,  who  holds  to  the  divinity  of  Christ  must 
agree  with  M.  Salvador,  that  'a  Jew  had  no  logical  alternative 
to  belief  in  the  Godhead  of  Jesus  Christ  except  the  impera- 
tive duty  of  putting  him  to  death.'* 

"After  this,  in  a  prayer  he  said : 

"  'O  my  Father,  if  it  be  possil)le,  lot  tliis  cup  pass  from  me !  never- 
theless, not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt.' 

"Would  a  sane  man  pray  to  himself? 


*Bampton  Lectures. 


The  Diviniti;  of  Christ  111 

''And  if  Christ  is  God,  was  lie  not  praying  to  himself?  In 
this  prayer  he  clearly  makes  a  distinction  between  his  and  the 
Father's  will.    In  another  place  he  says : 

"  'I  seek  not  my  own,  but  the  will  of  my  Father.' 
"Referring  to  his  second  coming,  he  said : 

"  'But  of  that  day  and  that  honr  knoweth  no  man,  no,  not  the 
angels  which  are  in  heaven,  neither  the  Son.  but  the  Father.' 

"Here  he  admits  that  the  Father's  knowledge  is  greater  than 
his  own.  In  a  talk  to  his  disciples  concerning  himself  and  the 
Father,  he  said : 

"  'I  go  unto  the  Father ;  for  my  Father  is  greater  than  I.' 
"  *If  a  man  love  me  he  will  keep  my  words:  and  my  Father  will 
love  him,  and  we  will  come  to  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him.' 

"Was  he  not  there  clearly  making  a  distinction  between  per- 
sons, viz.,  himself,  his  Father,  and  his  disciple?  Teaching  in 
the  temple  one  day  Jesus  declared  himself  to  be  the  light  of 
the  world,  when  the  Pharisees  accused  him  of  bearing  record 
of  himself,  saying:  'Thy  record  is  not  true.'  Jesus  answered 
by  saying : 

"  'It  is  written  in  your  law  that  the  testimony  of  two  men  is  true. 
I  am  one  that  bear  witness  of  myself,  and  the  Father  that  sent  me 
beareth  witness  of  me.' 

"Here  is  an  entire  separation  of  his  own  personality  and 
that  of  the  Father.  And  I  would  like  to  know  how  it  is  pos- 
sible to  make  two  witnesses  out  of  one  person." 

"O  my  soul!"  exclaimed  his  companion,  in  anguish.  "You 
step  on  holy  ground  with  unwashed  feet.  You  approach  the 
mystery  of  mysteries  as  you  would  a  problem  in  arithmetic; 
you  would  explain  or  destroy  the  Trinity. 

"  'I  thank  thee,  O  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  thou 
hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed 
them  unto  babes.'  " 

The  schoolmaster  was  checkmated.  As  a  reasoner  he  could 
not  contend  with  prayer;   as  a  philosopher  he  was  disarmed 

12 


178  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

before  the  altar.  "Perhaps,"  said  he,  "to  discuss  the  mission 
of  Jesus,  and  the  doctrines  he  taught,  would  come  more  legiti- 
mately under  the  head  of  a  philosophical  discourse  than  to  dis- 
cuss the  nature  of  his  being,  or  the  divinity  of  his  person ;  and 
as  his  tenets  are  understood  differently  by  different  sects,  a 
disagreement  as  to  his  true  mission  in  life  must  be  less  offensive 
than  to  question  his  nature. 

"If  he  came  here  as  a  man  only,  no  matter  how  exalted 
his  nature,  he  was  subject  to  the  contingencies  of  life  just  as 
other  men  are;  but  if  he  was  very  God,  as  claimed  by  the 
Church,  his  plans  were  all  worked  out,  and  he  knew  from  the 
beginning  every  incident  of  his  life,  from  birth  to  the  day  of 
his  death.  This  you  are  bound  to  admit  or  you  must  deny  his 
divinity.  Granting  him  this  foreknowledge,  no  contingency  can 
alter  the  fact ;  no  suppositions,  no  hypothecations,  have  the 
power  to  forestall  the  knowledge.  He  knew  from  all  eternity 
that  he  would  be  ushered  into  the  world  through  the  Virgin 
Mary ;  that  one  of  his  apostles  would  betray  him ;  that  the 
Jewish  Sanhedrim  would  condemn  him  to  death ;  that  Pilate 
would  wash  his  hands  of  the  so-called  crime ;  that  he  would  be 
crucified  between  two  malefactors ;  that  Joseph  would  deposit  his 
dead  body  in  his  own  new  tomb;  that  he  would  rise  from  the 
dead  on  the  third  day,  and  that  he  would  be  'received  up  into 
heaven  and  sit  on  the  right  hand  of  God.'  These  things,  if 
he  was  God,  he  knew  would  be  certain  to  take  place.  He  fur- 
thermore knew  u'hich  one  of  his  disciples  would  betray  him, 
for  he  predicted  it  in  these  words : 

"  'Now,  I  tell  you  before  it  come,  that  when  it  is  come  to  pass,  ye 
may  believe  that  I  am  he.' 

"Upon  being  asked,  'Which  one?'  he  answered: 

"  'He  it  is  to  whom  I  sliall  give  a  sop  when  I  hUA-e  clipped  it.  And 
when  he  had  dipped  the  sop  he  gave  it  to  Judas  Iscariot.'  'And  after 
the  sop,  Satan  entered  into  him.  Then  said  Jesus  unto  him,  That 
thou  doest,  do  quickly.'  " 


Judas  Iscariot.  179 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

JUDAS     ISCARIOT. 


"Judas  has  been  accused  of  being  a  thief  prior  to  this  sup- 
per, but  if  Christ  was  God,  and  Judas  was  a  thief  before  he 
received  the  sop,  Christ  knew  it  when  he  chose  him  for  his 
disciple ;  but  it  is  expressly  said  in  the  text  that  Satan  entered 
into  him  after  he  had  taken  the  sop. 

"To  an  unprejudiced  mind  this  would  look  much  like  cause 
and  effect.     If  Christ  was  God,  knowing  Judas  to  be  a  thief 
before  taking  him  as  one  of  his  apostles,  and  delegating  him 
with  authority  and  'power  against  unclean  spirits,  to  cast  them 
out,  and  to  heal  all  manner  of  sickness  and  all  manner  of  dis- 
ease';  and  bidding  him  to  go  forth   and  'preach,   saying,  the 
Kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand' ;  and  to  'heal  the  sick,  cleanse 
the  lepers,  raise  the  dead,  and  cast  out  devils';  and  advising 
him,  'When  you  come  into  a  house,  salute  it,  and  if  the  house 
be  worthy,  let  your  peace  come  upon  it :  but  if  it  be  not  worthy, 
let  your  peace  return  to  you;  and  whosoever  shall  not  receive 
you,  nor  hear  your  words,  when  you  depart  out  of  that  house 
shake  off  the  dust  of  your  feet  for  a  testimony  against  them' ; 
and  telling  him  furthermore  that  'Whosoever  shall  confess  me 
before  men,  him  will  I  confess  also  before  my  Father  which  is 
in   heaven;    but   whosoever   shall    deny   me   before    men,    him 
will  I  also  deny  before  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven';  and 
worse  than  all,  saying  to  this  man  whom  he  knew  to  be  a 
devil:    'Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on  earth:    I 
came  not 'to  send  peace,  but  a  sword.     For  I  am  come  to  set 
a  man  at  variance  against  his  father,  and  the  daughter  against 
her   mother,   and   the   daughter-in-law   against    her  mother-m- 
law' — I  submit  that  such  counsel  and  such  a  lecture  to  a  wicked 
man,  after  delegating  him  with  such  fearful  power,  could  pro- 
duce nothing  but  evil  consequences,  even  in  the  ordinary  con- 
tingencies of  life;  but  spoken  by  an  all-wise  and  omnipotent 
Being  to  a  frail  mortal,  of  weak  intellect  and  cursed  with  the 
basest  of  human  passions,  it  would,  indeed,  have  been  better 
for  that  man  had  he  never  been  bom. 


180  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"A  purely  intellectual  view,  stripped  of  the  glamour  of  re- 
ligious sentiment,  of  this  whole  transaction,  as  related  in  the 
gospels,  makes  Judas  the  most  helpless,  the  most  pitiable,  the 
most  tragical  wretch  who  ever  lived  upon  this  earth.  Chosen 
by  an  Omnipotent  Being  to  perpetrate  a  predetermined  crime; 
tempted  by  a  deadly  insult  of  this  same  being  without  provoca- 
tion ;  called  a  devil,  and  the  'Son  of  perdition' ;  selected  of  all 
men  for  the  delivery  of  his  master  into  the  hands  of  his  ene- 
mies, and  this  'by  the  determinate  council  and  foreknowledge 
of  God,'  Judas  deserves  commiseration  even  in  hell. 

"In  reporting  this  blood-curdling  tragedy  to  the  Father, 
Jesus  Christ  says : 

"'Those  whom  thon  gavest  me  have  I  kept;  and  uoue  of  them  is 
lost,  but  the  Son  of  perdition.' 

"And  why  was  this  Son  of  perdition  lost?  Was  it  because 
he  was  a  thief?  iN'o.  Was  it  because  he  was  a  devil?  No. 
Was  it  because  he  betrayed  his  master?  ISTo.  Then  why  was 
he  lost?  Let  Christ  himself  answer:  'That  the  Scripture  may 
he  fulfilled.' 

"Now,  let  me  ask  you  in  the  name  of  justice  and  mercy, 
what  Judas  had  to  do  Avith  this  denouement.  In  anticipation 
I  would  say  there  are  but  two  possible  answers :  the  one  scrip- 
tural and  the  other  philosophical — or  rather  unphilosophical. 
The  scriptural  answer  is  ad  hominem — the  reply  of  the  tyrant 
to  the  victim — the  answer  the  wolf  gave  to  the  lamb.  St. 
Paul  expressed  it  in  these  words : 

"  'Who  art  thou,  man,  that  repliest  against  God ;  hath  not  the 
potter  power  over  the  clay,  of  the  same  lump  to  make  one  vessel 
unto  honor  and  another  unto  dishonor?' 

"Plu-ri-bus-tah  expressed  it  more  vulgarly  when  he  gave 
'Cuffee'  his  reason  for  enslaving  him : 

"  'I  am  white  and  I  am  stronger ; 
You  are  black  and  you  are  weaker, 
And,  besides,  you  have  no  business 
And  no  right  to  be  a  nigger.' 

"The  philosophical  answer  takes  you  back  to  that  egotistical 
principle   in   man   which    dominates    the   religious   world,   and 


Judas  Iscariot  181 

blinds  tlie  creature  with  the  image  of  the  Creator,  until  he  is 
ready  to  assert,  'I  am  that  I  am.'  That  self-love  and  self-deifi- 
cation which  overpowers  man  in  his  search  for  truth,  places  his 
will  on  an  equality  with  the  will  of  his  Maker,  and  looks  upon 
reason  as  an  intruder,  whose  presence  is  contaminating,  and 
whose  company  is  only  fit  for  the  denizens  of  the  lower  regions. 

"If  Judas,  by  his  own  will  power,  could  have  abstained 
from  this  treacheiy,  would  not  his  will  have  been  more  power- 
ful than  the  will  of  God?  Leaving  out  the  moral  and  religious 
aspect  of  this  tragedy,  tell  me  if  the  causes  operating  upon 
Judas,  over  which  he  had  no  control,  were  not  sufficient  to 
compel  him  to  the  act.  And,  being  compelled,  irresistibly 
driven  by  a  will  infinitely  above  his  own,  the  cruelty  and  malig- 
nancy of  Mephistopheles  himself  must  quail  at  the  horrible  in- 
justice of  his  sentence. 

"You  accuse  me  of  infidelity.  Is  it  strange  that  a  book, 
claiming  to  be  the  word  of  God,  bearing  such  records  as  this ; 
detailing  in  hoiTor  the  trial,  sentence,  and  execution  of  a  vio- 
lator of  the  statute  law  of  the  country  he  was  born  in;  call- 
ing a  man  who  was  honored  by  God  himself  to  the  dignity  of 
treasurer  of  finance,  a  thief,  a  devil,  the  son  of  perdition ;  used 
as  henchman  to  execute  an  order  made  'by  the  determinate 
counsel  and  foreknowledge  of  God,'  and  consigning  this  man  to 
endless  torture  for  no  reason  under  heaven  save  'that  the  Scrip- 
ture might  be  fulfilled' — I  ask  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  just 
and  holy,  if  such  a  book,  read  and  studied  with  a  view  to  what 
it  really  means,  is  not  calculated  to  make  infidels  of  all  honest 
men?" 


182  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

JOB. 

''Take  the  case  of  Job,  'a  perfect  and  upright  man,'  a  man 
in  whom  there  was  no  frailty;  smitten  as  no  other  man  ever  was, 
both  in  person  and  effects ;  by  whom  and  for  what  cause  ?  By 
God,  with  the  exception  of  the  boils  (for  it  seems  the  devil 
was  allowed  that  pleasure),  for  no  cause  under  heaven  unless 
it  was  to  gratify  Satan.  In  a  conversation  with  this  fiend 
about  Job,  the  narrative  makes  God  say  to  Satan : 

"  'Thou  movetlst  me  against  him,  to  destroy  him  without  cause.' 

"xlnd  the  same  makes  Job  say  of  God,  that  he  'multiplieth 
my  wounds  without  cause';  and  has  God  to  commend  Job  for 
speaking  of  him  'the  thing  that  is  right.' 

"Now,  to  afflict  anybody  or  anything,  without  cause,  is  the 
act  of  a  tyrant,  and  savors  more  of  demonology  than  theology. 
While  this  story  of  Job  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  romances 
that  ever  was  conceived  in  the  brain  of  man,  it  is  incorporated 
in  a  book  which  the  Christian  world  claims  to  be  the  word 
of  God;  and,  as  such,  they  are  bound  to  believe  it  to  be  the 
statement  of  an  historical  fact ;  and  whoever  doubts  its  truth 
as  set  forth  in  the  narrative  is  an  infidel,  and  perjures  him- 
self when  he  joins  a  Christian  church. 

"If  this  story  had  been  found  in  the  writings  of  Confucius, 
in  the  Yedas,  the  Koran,  or  the  book  of  Mormon,  the  Chris- 
tian world  would  have  rejected  it  as  a  heathen  slander  of  the 
Almighty.  From  any  other  than  a  Christian  standpoint,  the 
gist  of  it  would  be  as  follows :  God  being  very  proud  of 
having  performed  a  piece  of  flawless  work,  he  calls  Satan's  at- 
tention in  a  sort  of  boastful  manner  to  the  beauty  of  his  handi- 
work, and  invites  his  criticism. 

"Satan  being  a  devotee  of  imperfection,  advises  a  test,  cruel, 
heartless,  and  destructive,  which  nothing  but  a  masterpiece 
could  withstand.  Failing  in  this,  he  calls  for  another,  when 
God,  doubting  his  own  ability  to  devise  any  torture  cruel  enough 
to  shake  the  integi'ity  of  Job,  places  him  in  the  hands  of  Satan 
with  the  sole  condition  of  sparing  his  life.     Now,  it   is  well 


Job.  183 

enough  to  know  who  this  Satan  is,  whose  good  opinion  and 
whose  admiration  God  appears  to  be  soliciting.  Palgrave 
says : 

"  'The  legendary  Satan  is  a  being  wholly  distinct  from  the  the- 
ological Lucifer.  He  is  never  ennobled  by  the  sullen  dignity  of  the 
fallen  angel.  No  traces  of  celestial  origin  are  to  be  discovered  on 
his  brow.  He  is  not  a  rebellious  peon  who  was  once  clothed  in  radi- 
ance, but  he  is  the  fiend,  the  enemy,  evil  from  all  time  past  in  his 
very  essence,  foul  and  degraded,  cowardly  and  impure ;  his  rage  is 
ofteuest  impotent,  unless  his  cunning  can  assist  his  power.' 

"Into  the  hands  of  this  fiend  God  places  the  only  perfect  man 
who  ever  lived  on  this  earth.  Satan,  believing  no  man's  in- 
tegrity can  withstand  physical  torture,  covers  him  with  a  solid 
sore  from  head  to  foot.  Job  sits  down  on  a  dung-heap  and 
scrapes  off  the  filth  with  a  broken  pot  lid.  Here  he  bewails 
his  calamities,  and  curses  the  day  of  his  birth. 

"  'Let  the  day  perish,'  he  says,  'wherein  I  was  born,  and  the  night 
in  which  it  was  said,  a  man-child  is  conceived.  Why  did  I  not  die 
in  the  womb,  why  did  I  not  perish  at  once  when  I  came  out  of  the 
belly?  Why  is  light  given  to  him  that  is  in  misery,  and  life  to 
them  that  are  in  bitterness  of  soul?' 

"Like  all  good  men,  Job  not  only  believed  in  moral  excellence, 
but  he  was  profoundly  religious.  He  had  been  reared  and 
educated  in  that  school  which,  to-day,  in  another  form,  teaches 
the  doctrine  of  rewards  and  punishments.  His  moral  recti- 
tude and  his  experience  had  combined  to  give  a  staggering  blow 
to  this  belief,  when  his  three  best  friends  came  preaching  the 
doctrine  in  its  most  offensive  form.  Feeling  from  the  bottom 
of  his  heart  that  he,  in  his  own  case,  was  a  sure  contradiction 
of  what  he  had  learned  to  believe,  he  himself  finds  his  very 
faith  in  God  shaken  from  its  foundation.  The  creed  in  which  he 
had  believed  had  been  tried  and  found  wanting.  He  is  vehe- 
ment, desperate,  reckless.  His  language  is  the  wild,  natural 
outpouring  of  suffering.  The  friends,  true  to  the  eternal  na- 
ture of  man,  are  grave,  solemn,  and  indignant,  preaching  their 
half  truth,  and  mistaken  only  in  supposing  that  it  is  the  whole ; 
speaking,  as  all  such  persons  would  speak,  and  still  do  speak, 
in  defending  what  they  consider  sacred  truth  against  the  as- 


184      The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

saults  of  folly  and  skepticism.      Hearing  of  their  friend's  mis- 
fortune and  sickness,  they  resolve  to  visit  and  comfort  him. 

"  'And  when  they  bad  lit'tetl  up  their  eyes  afar  off  they  knew  him 
not,  and  crying  out  they  wept,  and  rending  their  gnrments  they 
sprinkled  dust  upon  their  heads  toward  heaven.' 

"So  changed  was  Job,  so  altered  in  appearance,  that  at  first 
sight  they  did  not  recognize  him.  From  the  dignified,  high- 
toned,  cultured  gentleman  of  wealth  and  leisure,  they  found  a 
dirty,  miserable  wretch  sprawling  in  the  dirt,  crying  out  in 
the  bitterness  of  his  anguish : 

"  'Before  I  eat  I  sigh ;  and  as  overflowing  waters,  so  is  my 
roaring.' 

"Now,  the  object  of  this  visit  was  that  of  pure  sympathy, 
'for  they  had  made  an  appointment  to  come  together  and  visit 
him,  and  comfort  him.  And  they  sat  with  him  on  the  ground 
seven  days  and  seven  nights,  and  no  man  spoke  to  him  a  word : 
for  they  saw  that  his  grief  was  very  great.'  During  these 
seven  days  the  friends  had  ample  opportunity  to  study  Job's 
case,  and  to  philosophize  over  his  misfortune.  It  seems  that 
Eliphaz,  the  Temanite,  being  a  strong  believer  in  the  philoso- 
phy of  cause  and  effect,  and  being  superstitious  as  to  dreams, 
for  he  says  'in  the  horror  of  a  vision  by  night  a  spirit  passed 
before  me,  and  I  heard  the  voice  as  it  were  of  a  gentle 
wind,'  and  being  desirous  to  lead  Job  back  into  the  path  of 
moral  rectitude,  and  to  convince  him  that  his  own  conduct 
had  brought  his  misfortunes  upon  him,  gently  insinuated  his 
unwelcome  advice  by  pleading  excuse  for  his  presumption,  said 
to  Job : 

"  'If  we  begin  to  speak  to  thee,  perhaps  thou  wilt  take  it  ill.  but 
who  can  withhold  the  words  he  hath  conceived?' 

"And  then  to  let  Job  know  that  man  is  a  free  moral  agent, 
whose  will  determines  his  actions,  and,  let  the  consequences  be 
what  they  may,  the  responsibility  should  rest  upon  his  own 
shoulder,  said  to  him  : 

"  'Nothing  upon  the  earth  is  done  without  a  (-lusc.  and  sorrcnv 
doth  not  spring  out  of  the  ground.  Remember,  I  pray  thee,  who- 
ever perished  being  innocent?  or  when  were  the  just  destroyed?  On 
the  contrary,  I  have  seen  those  who  work  iniquity,  perishing  by  the 
blast  of  God,  and  consumed  by  the  spirit  of  his  wrath.' 


Job.  185 

"The  immense  distance  between  Job  and  his  friend  is  seen 
in  the  scornful  reply  of  the  sick  man  : 

"  'You  dress  n[)  speeches,'  said  las  •only  to  rebuke,  and  you  utter 
words  to  the  wind.  You  rush  in  upon  the  fatherless,  and  you 
endeavor  to  ov<>rthrow  your  friend.' 

"Whether  or  not  this  taunt  put  a  momentary  blush  upon  the 
brow  of  Eliphaz,  it  is  certain  that  Bildad,  his  Shuhite  friend, 
immediately  came  to  his  assistance,  and  in  the  lofty  tones  of 
outraged  decency  upbraided  Job  in  language  more  fitted  to  a 
criminal  than  to  one  suffering  at  the  hands  of  inexorable  fate. 

"  'How  long.'  said  he,  'wilt  thou  sjieak  these  things,  and  how  long 
shall  the  words  of  thy  mouth  be  like  a  strong  wind?  Doth  God 
pervert  judgment,  or  doth  the  Almighty  overthrow  that  which  is 
just?' 

"Job  seems  to  have  had  little  patience  with  Bildad,  and  in 
a  few  words  demolished  his  theory  by  asserting  a  fact.  He 
must  have  pitied  these  men  in  their  narrow  view  of  God's 
providence,  and  rather  than  reason  from  insufficient  data,  he 
preferred  to  quash  a  false  theory  by  showing  that  it  could  not 
be  built  upon  the  facts  of  existence.  Addressing  Bildad,  he  said, 
in  very  emphatic  language  : 

"  'One  thing  there  is  that  I  have  spoken,  both  the  innocent  and 
the  wicked  he  eonsumeth.  If  he  scourge,  let  him  kill  at  once,  and 
not  laugh  at  the  i)ains  of  the  innocent.' 

"Job's  short  reply  to  Bildad  seems  to  have  given  umbrage 
to  Zophar,  his  third  friend,  who  now  offered  his  consolation  in 
these  words : 

"'Shall  not  he  that  speaketh  much  hear  also?  or  shall  a  man  full 
of  talk  be  justitied?  Shall  men  hold  their  peace  to  thee  only?  and 
when  thou  hast  mocketl  others,  shall  no  man  confute  thee?  For 
thou  hast  said  :  my  word  is  pure,  and  I  am  clean  in  thy  sight.' 

"Job  now  began  to  feel  a  little  resentful  toward  these  men, 
who  no  doubt  came  with  the  best  of  motives,  and  really  in- 
tended Job  a  service,  but  whose  way  of  looking  at  things  was 
so  different  from  that  of  the  sick  man  that  to  them  he  is  a 
blasphemer  whom  they  gaze  at  with  awe  and  terror.  Into  the 
high  faith  of  Job  they  could  not  rise,  and  the  sublime  thought 


186  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

of  this  devout  sufferer  appeared  to  them  gross  impiety.     The 
irritation  he  felt  was  shown  in  his  answer  to  Zophar : 

"  'He  that  is  mocked  by  his  friend  as  I,  shall  call  uijon  God  and 
he  will  bear  him :  for  the  simiilicity  of  the  just  man  is  laiighetl  to 
scorn.' 

''How  like,  these  friends,  to  the  rigidly  righteous  of  the  pres- 
ent day!  Eeady  at  all  times  to  interpret  the  mind  of  Om- 
niscience, they  set  a  seal  upon  their  neighbor's  conduct,  and 
rest  assured  that  God  will  confirm  their  verdict,  and  punish 
or  condone  as  they  decide.  But  the  everlasting  fate  of  man  is 
not  in  the  hands  of  his  fellows. 

"ISTotwithstanding  Job's  protest,  notwithstanding  his  dis- 
pleasure at  their  unjust  accusations,  the  friends  continue  their 
polemics  on  the  same  line,  through  a  long  chapter  of  repeti- 
tions; and  when,  at  last,  the  vocabulary  is  exhausted,  and  Job 
is  not  yet  confounded,  it  seems  that  another — one  Elihu — a 
self-important,  pretentious  young  man  who,  without  invitation, 
had  obtruded  himself  into  this  company,  became  very  angry, 
not  only  with  Job,  but  his  three  friends,  because  they  had 
failed  to  convince  him  of  sin,  and  get  his  acknowledgment. 

"Where  Elihu  came  from,  and  what  business  he  had  at  this 
man's  house,  the  account  does  not  state;  but  we  may  well  im- 
agine him  to  be  a  youth  of  decent  parentage,  having  the  ad- 
vantage of  wealth  and  culture;  for  he  showed  evidence  of 
good  breeding  by  holding  his  tongue  while  the  others  spoke; 
in  fact,  he  apologized  for  putting  in  at  all,  but  he  was  so  full, 
and  had  such  an  overweening  opinion  of  his  own  abilities,  that 
he  felt  like  bursting  if  he  did  not  give  vent  to  his  knowledge. 
Addressing  the  three  friends,  he  said : 

"  'I  am  younger  In  days,  and  you  are  more  ancient,  therefore, 
hanging  down  my  head,  I  was  afraid  to  show  yon  my  opinion ;  for 
I  hoped  that  greater  age  would  speak,  and  that  uniltitude  of  years 
would  teach  wisdom.  But  as  I  see,  they  that  are  aged  are  not  the 
wise  men,  neither  do  the  ancients  understand  judgment;  therefore,  I 
will  speak:  Hearken  to  me;  I  also  will  show  yon  my  wisdom.  As 
long  as  I  thought  you  said  something,  I  considered  ;  but  as  I  see  there 
is  none  of  you  that  can  convince  Job,  and  answer  his  words,  I  also 
will  answer  my  part,  and  will  show  ray  knowledge;  for  I  am  full  of 
matter  to  speak  of,  and  the  spirit  of  my  bowels  stx'aighteneth  me. 


Job.  187 

Behold,  my  belly  is  as  new  wine  which  wanteth  vent ;  I  will  speak 
and  take  breath  a  little;  I  will  open  my  lips,  and  will  answer.' 

"Elihu  tlieu  delivered  a  sermon  on  tlie  Theodice,  but  it  fell 
upon  deaf  ears,  for  neither  Job  nor  his  friends  took  the  slight- 
est notice  of  what  he  said.  The  story  ends  by  the  interfer- 
ence of  God,  who  not  only  upholds  Job,  but  condemns  the 
friends  for  not  speaking  of  him  'the  thing  that  is  right,'  as 
Job  did.  The  final  restoration  of  Job  to  wealth  and  happiness 
has  a  measure  of  compensation,  in  strong  contrast  to  the  utter 
abandonment  of  Judas — both  being  helpless  in  the  hands  of 
Supernatural  Power." 

"N^ow,  my  Christian  friend,"  continued  the  teacher,  "if  you 
can  show  that  either  Judas  or  Job  was  a  free  moral  agent,  i.  e., 
had  it  in  their  power,  surrounded  and  overpowered  as  they  were 
by  the  spirit  of  Omnipotence,  to  w^ork  out  their  own  salvation, 
I  am  ready  and  willing  to  receive  the  lesson." 


188  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE   LESSON. 

The  time  passed  unconsciously  in  tlie  cool  sliade  of  the  beecli 
tree,  while  the  schoolmaster  discoursed  and  his  companion  lis- 
tened. The  sun  had  tilted  his  rays,  and  the  oppressive  heat 
began  to  abate.  It  was  time  to  walk.  The  impression  made 
upon  the  traveler  by  the  teacher's  criticism  was  that  of  weari- 
ness and  pain.  He  had  a  longing  desire  to  help  the  old  gentle- 
man, and  for  once  he  wished  for  the  power  of  the  Christ,  that 
he  might  remove  the  scales  from  the  eyes  of  his  friend.  The  two 
men  walked  a  goodly  distance,  both  in  deep  meditation.  The 
mind  of  the  traveler  was  beset  with  many  temptations,  but  fear- 
ing the  consequences,  he  took  his  steps  in  silence.  If  he  could 
only  get  the  schoolmaster  out  of  the  rut  of  materialism,  if  he 
could  once  reconcile  him  to  the  supernatural,  the  way  might 
open  to  a  recognition  of  God's  Avays  with  fallen  man. 

The  traveler  acknowledged  the  unvarying  law  of  cause  and 
effect,  but  he  would  not  permit  the  Parcop  to  decide  what  he 
would  eat  for  breakfast,  or  whether  he  would  go  to  bed  at 
9  or  10  o'clock  at  night.  He  could  not  divest  his  mind  of 
the  determining  power  of  will  as  a  jus  divinum,  or  admit  that 
will  followed  the  inevitable  law  of  sequence  to  anterior  cause. 
He  said  to  himself,  ''I  crook  my  finger  or  hold  it  straight, 
shake  my  head  or  hold  it  still,  talk  to  this  schoolmaster  or 
remain  silent,  walk  this  road  or  stop,  just  as  I  choose.  I  am 
the  primal  law  over  my  own  actions."  He  made  up  his  mind 
from  appearances.  What  he  saw  he  was  sure  of,  and  what  he 
heard  was,  to  him,  a  fact.  His  feelings  and  his  perceptions 
overruled  his  reason.  He  gave  faith  the  highest  seat  in  the 
galaxy  of  mental  traits,  and  fed  it  with  the  grist  from  his  o^vn 
experience.  An  abstract  idea  was  invariably  rejected,  when  it 
appeared  to  conflict  with  a  concrete  reality.  The  earth,  to  him, 
was  flat,  because  it  looked  flat.  He  believed  the  sun,  moon, 
and  stars  were  placed  in  the  heavens  to  give  light  and  warmth 
to  earth,  and  for  that  only.  He  was  not  a  bigot,  for  he  was 
''sovereign  o'er  transmuted   ill";   he   would  not  persecute,   be- 


The  Lesson.  189 

cause  lie  was  a  good  man.  He  believed  in  tlie  God  of  Moses, 
in  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  Revelation.  He  believed  every  word 
in  tlie  Book,  and  he  believed  it  to  be  the  word  of  God.  He  was 
a  Christian  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  for  he  had  the  testi- 
mony of  his  own  senses,  or  thought  he  had,  that  the  Crucified 
was,  veritably,  the  Son  of  God.  He  had  seen  him  with  his  own 
eyes,  and  witnessed  his  death.  He  was  suffering  from  his 
benign  resentment  now,  as  he  had  been  for  twenty  centuries 
past.  He  believed  the  sentence  to  be  just,  and  had  ceased  to 
complain.  "Whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,"  and  his  ac^ 
ceptance  of  this  truth  had  given  him  great  comfort  in  his 
affliction.  He  loved  his  fellow-man,  and  would  have  loved  his 
enemies — but  he  had  none. 

With  these  reflections  passing  rapidly  through  his  mind, 
he  was  endeavoring  to  formulate  an  argument,  or  a  statement 
which  he  hoped  might  divert  his  friend's  attention  from  the 
material  to  the  spiritual  aspect  of  the  religious  problem;  and, 
without  dogmatism  or  bigotry,  but  rather  in  a  spirit  of  humil- 
ity and  sorrow,  he  spoke  as  follows : 

"To  bring  men  together  on  a  disputed  point  is  a  difficult 
matter,  unless  the  premises  from  which  they  draw  their  con- 
clusions can  be  agreed  upon,  or,  at  least,  until  the  categories  of 
thought  are  traced  to  their  origin.  x\s  I  said  to  you  on  another 
occasion,  formal  thought  floats  in  the  air  with  no  foothold.  We 
cannot  tell  what  can  or  cannot  be ;  we  can  only  inquire  what  is, 
or,  at  least,  what  seems  to  be.  In  the  concrete  region  the  only 
test  of  possibility  apart  from  the  purely  negative  and  formal 
one  of  noncontradiction  is  experience.  Hence,  we  have  no 
way  of  forming  judgments  of  things  past  except  by  appeal 
to  life.  Life  as  it  has  been  throughout  the  ages  is  not  the 
same  to  all  men.  If  testimony  is  to  be  regarded  only  as  it 
conforms  to  formal  thought,  then  all  history  is  a  romance, 
and  faith  should  no  longer  control  the  actions  of  men. 

"When  you  tell  me  that  you  went  to  college  in  your  early 
manhood,  that  you  have  spent  most  of  your  life  in  teaching, 
and  that  you  have  never  assumed  the  responsibilities  of  married 
life,  I  have  not  the  slightest  right,  either  in  reason  or  my 
own  experience,  to  doubt  your  statements ;  and  so,  when  I  relate 


190  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

some  incidents  of  my  boyhood,  youtli,  and  early  manhood,  it 
is  strictly  within  the  limits  of  reason  and  probability  that  you 
accept  my  story  as  a  statement  of  facts. 

"Replying  to  your  criticism  of  the  Gospel  story  of  Judas 
Iscariot,  and  the  justness  of  his  sentence,  I  will  state  that 
Judas  was  about  my  own  age,  and  of  the  same  class  of  society 
as  myself.  "We  were  boys  together,  and  I  kneAV  him  well.  He 
lived  in  the  countiy,  but  often  came  to  town.  I  played  with 
him  on  the  streets,  and  sometimes  went  with  him  to  his  father's 
house.  It  was  a  poor  family,  and  Judas  hated  poverty.  He 
was  ever  on  the  qui  vive  to  get  a  penny.  He  hated  work,  and 
even  as  a  boy  he  was  constantly  devising  plans  by  which  to  get 
advantage.  He  was  not  cruel,  nor  was  he  considered  dishonest, 
but  sharp,  shrewd,  a  good  trader,  and  quite  a  financier  for  his 
age.  Like  the  character  given  by  our  historian  Josephus  to 
Cain,  he  was  Vholly  intent  upon  getting.' 

"Our  paths  separated  as  we  grew  up,  and  for  a  time  we 
lost  sight  of  each  other.  When  Jesus  began  to  be  talked  about, 
I  heard  of  Judas  as  one  of  his  followers.  They  told  me  he 
had  been  made  treasurer,  and  carried  the  'bag,'  and  I  said. 
'Well !  Judas  is  now  fixed — he  will  gain  an  heritage.' 

"The  Savior  foresaw  that  he  Avould  be  betrayed,  and  that  a 
horrible  death  awaited  him;  and  while  I  admit  that  this  was 
done  by  the  'determinate  counsel  and  foreknowledge  of  God,' 
I  do  not  admit  and  cannot  agree  that  any  particular  individual 
was  selected  by  this  council,  and  forced,  noleiis  volens,  to  exe- 
cute the  sentence.  The  law  of  cause  and  effect  is,  to  a  great 
extent,  abrogated  when  the  human  will  links  itself  into  that 
endless  chain  which  you  so  artistically  forged  in  a  previous 
conversation.  The  'twisted  link,'  so  graphically  put,  as  the  in- 
verse or  antithetical  agent,  is  man's  freedom.  It  is  the  image 
of  God  in  man,  and  it  gives  him  power  to  do  or  not  to  do, 
and  rejects  that  atheistical  fatalism  toward  which  your  short- 
sighted philosophy  tends.  It  is  a  self-evident  truth  that  you 
and  I  are  now  engaged  in  this  conversation  of  our  own  free  wills 
and  accord ;  that  we  can  close  our  mouths,  if  we  so  choose,  and 
not  speak  another  word;  that  we  have  it  in  our  power  to  stop, 
and  stand  still  for  an  hour,  or  walk  on,  and  this  independently 
of  outside  influences  or  extraneous  causes.     Our  present  inclina- 


The  Lesson.  191 

tions  prompt  us  to  walk  and  to  talk,  but  the  uiomont  our  wills 
should  say,  'Stop  and  hush,'  the  inclinations  would  be  effectu- 
ally banished  before  the  power  of  will.  Man's  will  is  the  only 
free  cause  in  the  universe  outside  of  God,  and,  bcdng  a  free 
cause,  it  has  the  virtue  of  a  first  cause. '  Iscariot's  will  was 
free  to  betray  his  Master  or  not,  as  Adam's  will  was  free  to 
eat  the  forbidden  fruit,  as  your  will  is  free  to  listen  to  my 
speech,  as  my  will  is  free  to  talk  or  to  close  my  lips.  Fine- 
spun theories,  quiddities,  and  disparagement  of  self-evident 
truths  lead  the  mind  into  Cimmerian  darkness.  Your  philoso- 
phy would  destroy  volition,  and  make  the  mind  of  man  a  blind 
force,  like  gravitation  or  the  law  of  chemical  affinity.  It  would 
destroy  human  law  and  overthrow  society  and  civilization.  It 
would  do  worse:  it  would  extend  to  the  Source  of  all  Light, 
and  make  God  a  machine  with  no  attribute  save  that  of  Power. 

"In  working  out  conclusions  every  fact  subservient  to  a  theory 
must  be  taken  into  consideration.  In  your  theory  of  the  func- 
tional activity  of  brain-substance  you  admit  what  you  deny 
here.  The  emotions,  the  passions,  even  brute  instinct,  are  given 
a  place  there,  while  here  all  is  excluded  except  the  barbed 
shafts  of  pitiless  reason.  The  human  will  has  ever  been  the 
odium  theologicum  of  religious  controversy,  and  until  it  is  rec- 
ognized as  a  free  cause,  and  the  only  free  cause  except  the 
uncaused  will  of  God,  there  will  be  wranglings  and  disagree- 
ments. Logic  is  the  passing  bell  of  religion,  the  Golgotha 
of  worship.  It  has  no  place  in  love,  affection,  nor  in  the  hu- 
manities. It  is  cold  and  lifeless;  it  is  the  gospel  of  dirt.  In- 
fidelity limits  the  mind  of  man  to  one  faculty.  It  ignores  the 
senses,  the  affections  and  the  feelings.  It  would  make  of  reason 
a  god,  and  degrade  the  other  faculties  into  a  fetich.  Religion, 
on  the  contrary,  embraces  every  faculty  of  mind.  It  tempers 
reason  by  the  sweet  influences  of  the  affections,  and  controls 
the  affections  by  the  iron  grip  of  reason.  Working  in  discord, 
they  give  us  Paganism ;  in  harmony,  they  give  us  Christianity. 

"The  case  of  Job  is  the  old  question:  'Why  does  God  al- 
low the  good  to  suffer?'  The  presence  or  absence  of  Satan  in 
the  case  adds  nothing  to  the  problem  and  subtracts  nothing 
from  it.  The  great  answer  of  the  Scriptures  and  of  Chris- 
tianity is  found  in  the  suffering  Savior.     If  he  would  not  ex- 


192  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

empt  liimself  from  pain,  it  is  no  impeachment  of  liis  love  that 
He  exempts  not  his  children.  It  is  by  suffering  that  men  come 
into  Divine  fellowship,  nor  does  it  appear  that  they  can  come 
otherwise.  If  there  was  no  way  that  the  cup  might  pass  from 
the  Savior,  in  revealing  His  infinite  love,  may  it  not  be  equally 
true  that  this  love  can  only  be  measured  through  the  same 
kind  of  experience?  Wherefore,  St.  Paul  prays  that  he  may 
^enter  into  the  fellowship  of  His  sufferings,'  and  be  made  'con- 
formable unto  His  death.' 

"If  the  suffering  of  the  good  be  a  mystery,  even  when  we 
see  the  God  incarnate,  author  of  pain  and  peace,  enter  the 
list  of  sufferers,  how  much  deeper  is  the  darkness  when  the 
problem  of  pain  is  viewed  from  an  unchristian  or  antichristian 
standpoint!  How  shall  the  deist  who  denies  the  revelation  of 
a  suffering  Savior  explain  the  great  cataclysmic  disasters  which, 
at  times,  overwhelm  men?  But  if  the  best — the  only  perfect — 
being  who  ever  trod  this  planet  was  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  we 
may  be  sure  pain  is  not  evil,  nor  exemption  from  it  the  chief- 
est  good.  If  the  end  of  being  is  exemption  from  pain,  the 
best  means  of  attaining  to  it  are,  as  Froude  says,  'a  hard  heart 
and  a  good  digestion.'  " 


An  Interlude.  193 

CHAPTEE  XXI. 

AN  INTERLUDE. 

Dreams  are  but  interludes,  which  fancy  makes 
When  Monarch  Reason  sleeps. 

— Dryden. 

They  had  reached  home  and  it  was  almost  dark.  They  were 
tired  and  hungry,  and  after  eating  a  frugal  supper  they  soon 
went  to  bed.  They  slept  well — both  of  them,  but  the  school- 
master awoke  about  day,  with  the  recollection  of  having  had  a 
most  extraordinary  dream.  Had  he  been  tinctured  with  the 
least  bit  of  superstition  he  would  have  regarded  this  as  a  warn- 
ing, but  his  philosophy  and  his  utter  repudiation  of  the  super- 
natural enabled  him  to  look  upon  it  as  one  of  the  vagaries  of 
unconscious  cerebration.  So  profoundly  realistic  was  the  im- 
pression made  upon  his  mind  by  this  dream  that,  immediately 
upon  bidding  his  guest  good  morning,  he  said :  ''I  have  some- 
thing to  tell  you.  I  am  not  a  believer  in  dreams,  in  omens, 
nor  in  visions ;  but  when  I  woke  up  this  morning  a  most  real- 
istic picture  was  stamped  upon  my  memory,  and  the  impression 
was  so  vivid  that,  for  several  minutes,  I  felt  as  if  it  w^as  a  real 
substance,  and  not  a  hieroglyph  of  the  drowsy  god  of  sleep. 

"I  was  in  an  immense  plain,  a  desert  of  wild,  weary  waste — 
of  lifeless  solitude.  From  the  center  of  this  plain  radiated  in 
all  directions  well-beaten  roads,  and  I  could  see,  from  what 
appeared  immeasurable  distance,  that  all  the  roads  converged 
toward  a  common  center;  and  in  this  center,  upon  a  slight 
elevation  of  the  ground,  stood  an  immense  stiiicture  or  build- 
ing which  glittered  in  the  dazzling  radiance  of  the  plain.  As- 
tonished at  my  situation,  and  wondering  where  I  could  be,  I 
gazed  around  and  saw  the  roads  go  into  illimitable  space  from 
the  central  convergence.  I  knew  not  what  to  do,  nor  where 
to  go.  I  could  see  that  if  I  went  tOAvard  the  center  I  would 
get  to  a  resting  place,  but  in  the  other  direction  I  saw  no 
end.  To  the  center  I  directed  my  steps,  and  on  the  way  I  saw 
signboards  on  which  was  written :  'To  the  Temple  of  Wisdom.' 
On  the  other  side  of  the  road  were  signboards  pointing  in  the 

13 


194  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

opposite  direction :  'To  the  end  of  strife.'  I  couldn't  under- 
stand wliat  these  backward  directions  meant,  until  I  met  a 
pilgrim  who  had  been  on  a  mission  that  thousands  of  others 
had  preceded  him  in,  and  many  thousands  would  yet  follow  in 
his  footsteps.  He  had  been  up  to  the  temple  in  search  of  wis- 
dom, and  the  contrary  Avinds  had  blown  out  his  lamp.  He  told 
me  that  Minerva  was  no  longer  there;  that  long  ago  she  had 
abdicated  her  throne,  and  that  from  the  highest  pinnacle  of 
the  edifice  floated  the  red  flag  of  religious  controversy;  that 
philosophers,  theologians,  metaphysicians,  scientists,  and  agnos- 
tics crowded  in  and  around  the  temple,  seeking  their  own  cult, 
and  gazing,  with  dazzled  eyes  and  wistful  care,  at  the  flaunting 
banner  of  controversy ;  that  on  the  flag  was  written  in  all  char- 
acters and  all  languages.  Volition,  Choice,  Liberty,  Scope,  Lati- 
tude, Freedom,  Discretion,  Eate,  Necessity,  Foreordination, 
Election,  Doom;  and,  that  every  one  who  visited  the  place  be- 
came dissatisfied  at  the  little  consolation  he  received;  for  at 
every  nook  and  every  corner  stood  a  sentinel  and  a  guide,  each 
blind  in  his  own  conceit,  and  carrying  in  his  hand  a  little  red 
flag  with  which  he  pointed  to  the  flaming  banner  at  the  top 
of  the  temple. 

"The  Methodist  was  there,  and  on  his  flag  was  painted  in 
letters  of  gold.  Choice,  Liberty,  Freedom.  He  waved  it  over 
my  head,  and  told  me  that  'iN'ow  is  the  accepted  time.' 

"A  little  further  on,  and  the  Baptist  held  up  his  flag.  On 
it  was  written,  in  subdued  tints.  Freedom,  I^ecessity.  He 
told  me,  almost  in  a  whisper,  that  he  had  'Compassed  sea  and 
land  to  make  one  pro' — when  a  little  beyond  him  a  rough- 
looking,  plainly  dressed  man,  Avith  a  charity-begins-at-home  air, 
motioned  me  to  look:  and  his  little  flag  had  printed  in  bold 
black  letters,  Election,  Foreordination,  Doom.  As  I  passed  by, 
he  whispered  in  my  ear,  'We  are  the  chosen  of  the  Lord.' 
This  was  a  'Hardshell.' 

"Then  the  Episcopalian  held  up  his  flag,  and  it  was  painted 
in  particolors,  and  had  for  its  motto,  'The  Church.' 

"A  few  steps  further,  I  struck  up  with  a  Jew  and  a  Moham- 
medan. They  were  in  a  controversy  over  the  'scapegoat'  and 
the  Parcae. 


An  Interlude.  195 

"Leaving  them  to  their  wranglings,  I  turned  a  corner,  and 
ahnost  ran  into  the  arms  of  an  Old  School  Presbyterian.  He 
was  a  dignified,  calm-looking  old  gentleman,  and  when  I  made 
excuse  for  my  precipitancy,  instead  of  a  benediction,  he  gave 
me  a  severe  look,  and  held  out  his  flag,  upon  which  was  writ- 
ten in  most  somber  hues  : 

"  'By  the  decree  of  God,  for  the  manifestation  of  His  glory,  some 
men  and  angels  are  predestined  unto  everlasting  life,  and  others 
foreordained  to  everlasting  death.  These  angels  and  men,  thus  pre- 
destined and  foreordained,  are  particularly  and  unchangeably  de- 
signed, and  their  number  is  so  certain  and  definite  that  it  cannot 
be  either  increased  or  diminished.' 

"I  bowed,  said  'Yes,  sir,'  and  went  on.  Passing  through  the 
center  of  the  building,  I  came  to  a  sort  of  anteroom  or  mez- 
zanine floor,  in  which  was  collected  a  most  heterogeneous  com- 
pany. Some  of  them  were  washing  one  another's  feet,  others 
anointing  with  oil,  and  two  or  three  jumping  up  and  down 
slapping  their  hands  together  and  crying,  'Glory !'  In  one  cor- 
ner of  the  room  sat,  bolt  upright,  stiff  as  statues,  a  half  dozen 
others,  with  their  hats  on,  saying  nothing.  One  of  them  had  a 
flag,  and  on  it  was  written : 

'Waiting  for  the  Spirit.' 

"I  let  him  wait,  and  went  on.  Following  down  a  long  cor- 
ridor, I  came  to  a  large  hall  where  a  lecture  was  going  on. 
The  speaker  was  a  pale,  cadaverous-looking  young  man,  who 
was  just  graduated  from  a  famous  university,  and  his  subject 
was  'Transcendental  Empiricism.'  I  listened  a  while,  and,  fail- 
ing to  catch  the  thread  of  his  discourse,  I  went  on  my  way,  and 
presently  stumbled  into  a  hall  of  revelry.  Here  w^as  a  jollifica- 
tion— eating,  drinking,  and  making  merry.  Toasts  were  be- 
ing called  for,  and  ribald  jests  added  to  the  cheer.  Just  as  I 
entered  the  door,  a  sleek,  red-faced,  good-natured  fellow,  dressed 
in  the  height  of  fashion,  held  up  a  glass  of  sparkling  wine  and 
called  out : 

"  'To  the  God  of  mirth,  the  only  Deity  in  the  universe  deserving 
the  homage  of  a  rational  mind.' 

"Cheer  upon  cheer  followed  this  priggism,  and  I  passed  on 
to  the  end  of  the  corridor. 


196  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

''On  the  outside,  a  few  steps  from  the  main  court  of  the 
temple,  in  a  little  summer-house,  surrounded  by  evergreens  and 
overrun  with  trailing  vines,  I  found  a  man  who  is  worthy  of  a 
description.  He  was  sitting  in  an  easy  chair,  looking  upward 
at  the  temple  and  its  throng,  the  last  rays  of  sunlight  reflected 
from  the  gorgeous  gold  flowers  of  a  splendidly  embroidered 
costume.  Patent-leather  pumps,  a  red  cassock,  a  short  purple 
mantle,  and  a  red  hat  with  small  crown  and  broad  brim,  with 
co.rds  and  tassels  hanging  from  it,  served  to  mark  him  a  con- 
spicuous object.  His  face,  lividly  pale,  but  for  the  energy  of 
his  action  and  strength  of  his  lungs,  would  mark  him  the 
victim  of  consumption.  His  eye  is  black  as  Erebus,  and  has  the 
most  mocking,  lying-in-wait  sort  of  expression  conceivable.  His 
mouth  is  alive  with  a  kind  of  working  and  impatient  nervous- 
ness, and  when  he  has  burst  forth,  as  he  does  constantly,  with 
a  particularly  successful  cataract  of  expression,  it  assumes  a 
curl  of  triumphant  scorn  that  would  be  worthy  of  Mephisto- 
pheles. 

''Our  conversation  naturally  turned  on  the  temple  and  its 
votaries.  I  might  as  w^ell  attempt  to  gather  up  the  foam  of  the 
sea  as  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  extraordinary  language  in 
which  he  clothed  his  description.  He  talked  like  a  race  horse 
approaching  the  winning  post,  every  muscle  in  action.  His 
egotism  stands  unrivaled.  It  is  admirable  in  its  sublimity.  Be- 
fore it  I  took  off  my  hat.  The  Protestant  elect  thinks  he  is 
chosen,  the  Jew  believes,  but  this  man  Jcnoivs.  His  commis- 
sion is  from  Heaven,  and  the  scorn  with  which  he  views  the 
heresy  of  other  sects  is  shown  in  the  curl  of  his  lip  and  the  depth 
of  his  dark,  burning  eyes.  With  all  this,  he  can  be  mild 
as  the  zephyr  wind.  Now  and  again  he  smiles  that  wondrous, 
contagious  smile,  showing  his  white  teeth,  and  carrying  with 
it  the  persuasion  of  the  soul. 

"After  this,  he  said: 

"  'My  sou,  thou  art  dishearteued.  Thou  hast  done  well  to  come 
to  me.  The  light  of  the  world  is  represented  in  our  cult,  and  ou 
the  broad  bosom  of  our  mother — the  Church  militant — you  will  tiud 
rest  for  your  weary  feet,  and  peace  to  your  troubled  mind.  Take 
either  road  from  this  place;  they  all  lead  to  the  one  goal,  where 
Protestant  errors  are  corrected  and  forgiven,   infidel  tendencies  up- 


An  Interlude.  197 

rooted,  and  the  soul  is  purified  and  made  fit  for  its  celestial  habita- 
tion. Our  mother  surrounds  this  plain,  and  her  hovering  wings 
would  brood  the  whole  world.  Go,  and  delay  not :  may  the  blessings 
of  the  Church  descend  upon  you.' 

"I  bade  the  good  mau  adieu,  and  I  am  on  my  way.  Come, 
go  with,  me;  you  will  get  no  help  at  the  temple.  The  Oracle 
has  ceased  to  give  answers,  and  the  pedantic  horde  swarming 
around  the  ancient  shrine  can  give  you  no  light.  The  truth 
is,  that  no  powers  of  mind  constitute  a  security  against  errors 
in  belief.  Touching  God  and  His  ways  with  man,  the  highest 
human  faculties  can  discover  little  more  than  the  meanest. 
In  theology,  the  interval  is  small  indeed  between  Aristotle  and 
a  child,  between  Archimedes  and  a  naked  savage.  It  is  not 
strange,  therefore,  that  wise  men,  weary  of  investigation,  tor- 
mented by  uncertainty,  longing  to  believe  something  and  yet 
seeing  objections  to  everything,  should  submit  themselves  ab- 
solutely to  teachers  who,  with  fimi  and  undoubting  faith,  lay 
claim  to  a  supernatural  commission.  It  is  better  to  submit 
ourselves  to  the  guidance  of  those  who  claim  help  from  on 
High,  than  to  wrangle  with  the  Jew  and  the  Mohammedan, 
the  Protestant  and  Schismatic,  the  Scientist  and  Agnostic. 

"Here,  I  woke  up,  and  before  I  could  get  rid  of  this  mental 
obfuscation,  I  came  near  calling  out  to  the  man — but  he  was 
gone,  and  I  realized  that  it  was  only  a  dream.  Our  conversation 
yesterday  evidently  predisposed  to  this  drowsy  conceit,  and  as 
it  points  directly  to  our  discussion  of  human  volition,  I  will 
add,  or  rather  reply  to  your  seeming  philosophical  argiiment, 
by  pointing  out  the  hidden  sophism  which  obscures  the  per- 
ception. 

"The  last  asylum  of  the  hard-pressed  advocate  of  the  doctrine 
of  uncaused  volition  is  usually  that,  argue  as  you  like,  he  has 
a  profound  and  ineradicable  consciousness  of  what  he  calls  the 
freedom  of  his  will.  You  avail  yourself  of  this  solecism  in 
your  illustration  of  crooking  your  finger,  shaking  your  head, 
etc.  We  cannot  surely  mean  that  actions  have  so  little  connec- 
tion with  motive,  inclinations,  and  circumstances,  that  one 
does  not  follow  with  a  certain  degree  of  uniformity  from  the 
other,  and  that  one  affords  no  inference  by  which  we  can  con- 


198  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

elude  the  existence  of  the  other,  for  these  are  plain  and  ac- 
knowledged matters  of  fact.  By  liberty,  then,  Ave  can  only 
mean  a  power  of  acting  or  not  acting  according  to  the  deter- 
minations of  the  iviJi:  that  is,  if  we  choose  to  remain  at  rest, 
we  may;  if  we  choose  to  move,  we  also  may.  Now,  this  hypo- 
thetical liberty  is  universally  allowed  to  belong  to  every  one 
who  is  not  a  prisoner  and  in  chains.  Here,  then,  is  no  dispute. 
Half  the  controversies  about  freedom  of  the  Avill  would  have 
had  no  existence  if  this  truthful  observation  had  been  well 
pondered  by  those  who  oppose  the  doctrine  of  necessity.  For 
they  rest  upon  the  absurd  presumption  that  the  proposition, 
'I  can  do  as  I  like,'  is  contradictory  to  the  doctrine  of  neces- 
sity. The  ansAver  is,  nobody  doubts  that,  at  any  rate  within 
certain  limits,  you  can  do  as  you  like.  But  what  determines 
your  likings  and  dislikings  ?  Did  you  make  your  oaa^u  consti- 
tution ?  Is  it  your  contrivance  that  one  thing  is  pleasant  and  an- 
other is  painful?  And  even  if  it  AA'ere,  Avhy  did  you  prefer  to 
make  it  after  one  fashion  rather  than  the  other?  The  passion- 
ate assertion  of  the  consciousness  of  their  freedom,  AA'hich  is 
the  faA'orite  refuge  of  the  opponents  of  the  doctrine  of  necessity, 
is  mere  futility,  for  nobody  denies  it.  What  they  really  have 
to  do,  if  they  would  upset  the  necessarian  argimient,  is  to  prove 
that  they  are  free  to  associate  any  emotion  whatever  with  any 
idea  whatCA^er ;  to  like  pain  as  much  as  pleasure ;  A'ice  as  much 
as  A'irtue ;  in  short,  to  prove  that,  whatcA^er  may  be  the  fixity 
of  order  of  the  universe  of  things,  that  of  thought  is  given  over 
to  chance.  If  you  AA^ould  see  the  Avorkings  of  uncaused  volition 
and  perfect  freedom  of  VAall,  visit  the  wards  of  a  lunatic  asylum 
and  converse  with  its  inmates.  Here,  cause  is  giA-en  over  to 
chance,  volition  is  without  motive,  and  action  represents  con- 
fusion. The  orderly  sequence  of  cause  and  effect  is  inter- 
rupted and  the  result  is  chaos." 


The  Teachings  of  Jesus.  199 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  TEACHINGS  OF  JESUS. 

Breakfast  over,  the  two  men  continued  their  conversation. 
The  schoolmaster  had  studied  for  many  years  the  Xew  Testa- 
ment, and  studied  it  as  he  would  any  other  book — to  get  the  true 
sense  of  its  teaching.  Whenever  he  opened  the  Sacred  Volume 
he  did  it  reverently,  without  any  thought  to  a  dogma,  a  creed, 
or  a  church.  He  was  willing  for  it  to  be  the  word  of  God,  and 
he  didn't  care  if  it  was  simply  the  thoughts  of  men.  He  an- 
alyzed, sifted,  dissected  the  book  as  he  would  any  pet  theoi-y 
of  a  secular  philosopher.  He  didn't  care  what  it  taught,  so  he 
understood  its  teaching.  Calling  his  friend's  attention  to  the 
old  family  Bible,  he  said  to  him:  ''That  book  is  little  read 
and  less  studied  by  a  majority  of  those  who  make  the  greatest 
pretentions  to  a  belief  in  its  teachings.  They  seem  to  be  afraid 
of  it,  and  to  discuss  it  is  thought  to  be  a  sin.  Like  the  un- 
profitable servant,  they  seem  to  think  the  best  plan  is  to  wrap 
their  talent  in  a  napkin  and  hide  it. 

"Believing  it  our  duty  to  find  out  the  truth  so  far  as  we  are 
able,  I  would  call  your  attention,  first,  to  the  sermon  on  the 
Mount,  which  is  claimed  by  the  Christian  world  to  be  beyond  all 
praise.  Outside  of  the  moral  precepts  it  contains  (and  they 
belong  to  all  religions),  the  most  prominent  features  of  the 
whole  sermon  are  the  inculcation  of  selfishness  and  a  disregard 
of  the  duties  of  the  present  life.  It  foists  egotism  in  the  human 
heart,  and  would  flatter  man  that  he  is  on  an  equality  with  his 
Maker.  It  makes  God  haggle  and  barter  with  man,  and  offer 
him  a  bribe.  In  that  short  sermon,  which  can  be  delivered  in 
ten  minutes,  there  are  eighteen  premimns  offered,  and  twelve 
threats  made. 

"The  14th  and  15th  verses  of  the  6th  chapter  of  Matthew 
are  fair  illustrations  of  the  coax  and  drive  style  of  the  whole 
sermon. 

"  'For  if  you  will  forgive  men  their  offenses,  your  heavenly  Father 
will  forgive  you  also  your  offenses.  But  if  you  will  not  forgive 
men,  neither  will  your  Father  forgive  you.' 


200  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"Here  is  a  clear  case  of  God's  sovereignty  being  given  over 
to  iiis  creature — man.  If  any  act  of  God  can  be  determined  by 
any  act  of  man,  then  God  is  not  sovereign  and  man  liolds  the 
j)recedent.  That  Almighty  God's  will  can  be  made  subservient 
to  a  feeling  engendered  in  the  heart  of  sinful  man  is  a  travesty 
upon  Omniscience.  If  you  will  forgive,  God  will  forgive  you; 
but  if  you  will  not  forgive,  God  will  not  forgive  you.  Here  the 
order  of  cause  and  effect  is  reversed,  and  God's  will  is  made 
dependent  upon  a  human  sentiment. 

"A  trade,  a  bargain,  between  God  and  man ! 

"I  once  heard  a  good  preacher  say  that  man  was  the  only  be- 
ing in  the  universe  who  would  stand  up  before  God,  shake  his 
fist  in  his  face,  and  defy  him.  How  could  such  a  rabid  passion 
ever  enter  into  a  man  except  upon  the  idea  of  equality,  and 
where  could  that  idea  come  from  except  from  the  Sacred  Vol- 
ume? The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  an  exalted  egotism. 
It  is  a  placing  of  the  finite  above  the  Infinite — making  God 
subservient  to  man.  It  does  more:  it  promises  rewards  for  do- 
ing one's  duty,  and  offers  bribes  for  the  impossible. 

"  'Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,  for  they  shall  be  called  the  chil- 
dren of  God.' 

"Why  not  simply,  'Blessed  are  the  peacemakers'?  Why  the 
reward?  Is  not  the  self-consciousness  of  having  made  peace 
between  enemies  sufficient  ? 

"Rewards  and  punishments  are  the  basic  elements  of  the 
ISTew  Testament  teaching. 

"  'Love  your  enemies.' 

"This  is  a  hard  command,  and  there  is  much  doubt  as  to 
the  possibility  of  its  uti  possidetis,  or  appertainment. 

"A  man  may  cease  to  hate,  may  forgive  and  let  his  enemies 
go  their  way;  but  to  love  them  is  beyond  human  nature.  The 
Scriptures  represent  God,  even,  as  continually  working  against 
his  enemies,  and  devising  means  for  their  destruction.  Jesus 
himself,  who  gave  the  command,  never  loved  his,  and  never 
asked  a  blessing  on  them  until  he  was  helpless  on  the  Cross. 
In  his  prime  he  hurled  anathemas  against  them,  and  on  one 
occasion  said: 

"  'As  for  those  my  enemies,  who  would  not  have  me  reigu  over 
them,  bring  hither,  and  kill  them  before  me.' 


The  Teachings  of  Jesus.  201 

''Should  a  lawmaker  give  a  coiiiniaud  to  others  which  he 
will  uot  obey  himself?  Does  God  violate  his  own  laws?  Then, 
indeed,  is  he  on  a  level  with  man. 

"Another  objection  to  the  teachings  of  Jesus  is,  his  ignoring 
this  world,  and  his  utter  repudiation  of  eveiything  that  is 
useful  in  this  life. 

"  'But  I  say  unto  you,  uot  to  resist  evil.' 

"Suppose  men  were  to  even  attempt  to  folloAV  this  injunction, 
could  they  live  in  this  world?  It  is  useless  to  make  comment 
on  the  absurdity  of  such  a  proposition.  Life  is  a  conflict,  an 
everlasting  war  with  evil.  When  evil  preponderates  in  any- 
thing, destruction  follows.  To  resist  evil  is  the  very  essence 
of  life.  If  this  w^orld,  and  life  in  this  world,  is  unworthy  of 
man's  serious  thought  and  attention,  then  God,  in  his  creative 
acts,  made  a  most  lamentable  blunder. 

"The  whole  tenor  of  the  Sacred  Volume,  from  the  first  plant- 
ing of  the  Garden  of  Eden  doAvn  to  the  crucifixion  of  Jesus, 
is  a  detailed  account  of  an  ignorant,  repentant  deity  who,  in 
order  to  maintain  himself,  and  support  his  throne,  is  compelled 
to  exercise  that  arbitrary  power  which  none  can  take  from  him.' 
The  banishing  of  the  first  family  from  the  Garden ;  the  flood ; 
the  destruction  of  the  cities  of  the  plain,  and  the  sacrifice  of 
his  only  begotten  son,  serve  to  show  the  makeshifts  of  an  igno- 
rant god.  The  Jehovah  of  the  Bible  is  only  the  blurred  image 
from  that  materio-psychic  organism  ensconced  within  the  cranial 
walls  of  one  who  had  killed  his  man  and  yet  had  talked  with 
God  face  to  face.  The  God  of  the  Jew  is  simply  what  Moses 
w^ould  have  been  if  he  could.  The  great  God  of  this  universe 
is  a  different  being  from  the  Jehovah  of  the  Old  Testament. 
He  manifests  himself  in  every  blade  of  grass,  in  every  flower; 
in  the  birds  of  the  air,  and  in  the  fishes  of  the  sea.  Emerson 
goes  even  further,  and  says :  'The  true  doctrine  of  omnipres- 
ence is  that  God  reappears  with  all  his  parts  in  every  moss  and 
cobweb.'  He  it  is  whom  Paul  spoke  of  as  the  'Unknown  God.' 
Man  will  never  know  him.  He  is  too  great,  there  is  too  much 
of  him  ever  to  be  inclosed  in  the  skull  of  a  man.  That  Jesus 
Christ  was  God  is  only  the  concept  of  men,  Avho  had  become  dis- 
satisfied with  the  God  of  Moses ;  and  whether  they  bettered  it  is 
to  be  seen  in  a  further  study  of  his  teachings. 


202  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"Men  are  judged  nowadays  largely  by  tlie  company  they  keep, 
and  nothing  can  give  stronger  evidence  of  a  man's  taste  than  his 
daily  associations.  The  sympathetic  side  of  a  good  man's  na- 
ture will  naturally  take  him  to  the  poor,  the  downcast,  the 
ignorant,  and  the  afflicted ;  but  when  he  deserts  his  best  friends, 
and  forsakes  those  who  are  in  sympathy  with  him  and  would 
aid  him  in  his  work,  to  grovel  Avith  the  canaille,  the  question 
naturally  arises,  'Is  this  man  the  highest  type  of  humanity?' 

''The  first  account  we  have  of  the  manhood  of  Jesus  in  the 
gospel  of  Matthew  is  when  John  the  Baptist  heralded  him  to 
the  world  in  terms  which,  to  a  man  of  refined  feelings,  ought 
to  have  secured  to  John  a  fast  friend  to  the  last  day  of  his  life ; 
for  John,  in  his  enthusiasm,  made  public  announcement  of  him 
in  these  words : 

"'I,  indeed,  baptize  you  witti  water  uuto  repentance;  but  be  tbat 
Cometh  after  me  is  mightier  than  I,  whose  shoes  I  am  not  worthy  to 
bear :  he  shall  baptize  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  with  fire.' 

"And  when  Jesus  went  to  John  for  baptism  himself,  John 
]3rotested,  and  said: 
"  'I  have  need  to  be  baptized  by  you.' 

"Was  ever  loyalty  more  directly  submitted  from  one  man 
to  another?  Can  friendship  extend  further?  Here  was  a 
holy  man,  the  first  organizer  of  a  new  religious  rite,  offering 
to  stand  aside,  and  to  place  another  in  his  stead;  to  become 
secondary  in  his  own  work,  to  exalt  another  above  himself. 
What  is  the  plain  duty  of  man  to  man  in  a  case  like  this? 
What  did  John  deserve  at  the  hands  of  Jesus?  What  did  he 
get  ?  Pitiful,  sorrowful,  ignominious  to  relate !  John  fell 
under  the  ban  of  Herod,  got  into  prison  and  was  beheaded. 
Jesus  Christ,  your  God-man,  who  censured  others  for  not  visit- 
ing those  in  prison,  never  went  near  him ;  but  what  did  he  do  ? 
Let  the  Scriptures  tell : 

"  'Now,  when  Jesus  had  heard  that  John  was  cast  into  prison,  he 
departed  into  Galilee;  aud  leaving  Nazareth,  he  came  and  dwelt  in 
Caperuanm,  wliicli  is  upon  the  seacoast.' 

"Abandoned  his  friend  to  the  hot  walls  of  a  tropic  dungeon, 
and  during  his  entire  imprisonment,  which  was  about  a  year, 


The  Teachings  of  Jesus.  203 

never  sent  a  message  of  condolence,  nor  of  inquiry  as  to  bis 
healtli  or  comfort.  But  even  in  prison,  John  never  forgot 
Jesus,  for  he  sent  two  of  his  disciples  after  hearing  of  his  works, 
to  inquire  if  he  was  really  the  Christ,  or  whether  he  should 
look  for  another.  This  would  seem  like  a  strange  message, 
coming  from  one  who  had  testified  to  the  Sonship  of  Jesus,  and 
proclaimed  him  as  the  'Lamb  of  God  who  taketh  away  the  sin 
of  the  Avorld';  but  when  we  consider  that  prison  walls  have  a 
language  of  their  own,  which  we  learn  to  interpret  in  the  dark 
solitude  of  friendless  proscription,  we  may  not  marvel  that 
John — even  John  the  Baptist,  as  'a  prophet !  yea,  more  than  a 
prophet,'  should  translate  the  monotonous  silence  of  his  confine- 
ment into  S}anbols  of  doubt.  Yes,  John  doubted,  and  no  won- 
der. He  could  not  be  sure ;  he  Avanted  assurance  from  the  lips 
of  him  he  loved.  The  answer  given  to  the  messengers  is  char- 
acteristic : 

"  'Go  and  relate  to  Jolm  what  you  have  heard  and  seen :  the  blind 
see.  the  lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  the  deaf  hear ;  the  dead 
rise  again,  the  poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to  them.  Blessed  is 
he  that  shall  not  be  offended  in  me.' 

"There  is  not  an  instance  in  the  old  Bible  where  Jehovah, 
the  God  of  Moses,  ever  deserted  a  friend.  Is  the  'Son'  a  degen- 
erate, or  has  ingratitude  become  a  vii*t,ue?  We  next  hear  of 
him  as  having  a  ridiculous  bout  with  the  devil,  and  'From 
that  time  he  began  to  preach.'  Like  all  organizers  of  a  new 
cult,  Jesus  felt  the  need  of  followers,  and  the  first  man  'called' 
is  the  most  contemptible  character  in  all  the  book.  Peter! 
That  name,  in  the  far  distant  future,  when  lying  and  thieving 
shall  have  become  obsolete  in  the  affairs  of  men,  will  be  a 
byword  and  a  reproach— a  scandalization  of  the  rock  upon 
which  the  Christian  Church  is  built.  No  structure  can  stand 
forever  upon  a  foundation  of  falsehood.  The  Omnipotent  Be- 
ing who  set  this  universe  in  motion  will  not  permit  it.  Peter, 
O  Peter!  Thou  colossus  of  mendacity!  Thou  renegade, 
thou  father  of  false  pretense!  Of  what  inconceivable  wick- 
edness have  men  been  guilty  that  thou  shouldst  be  set  over 
them  for  a  spiritual  guide?  Peter,  the  pretender,  who  followed 
his  Master  in  prosperity,  and  deserted  him  in  adversity !    Peter, 


204  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

the  rock  upon  which  the  Christian  Church  is  built,  who  fol- 
lowed 'afar  off'  when  the  Master  was  taken,  and  sat  by  the 
fire  doAvnstairs  at  the  trial;  who  cursed  and  SAvore  that  he 
never  knew  the  man !  Peter,  whom  the  Savior  upon  one  occa- 
sion rebuked — as  Satan.  Peter,  who  never  went  near,  nor  in- 
quired one  word  concerning  his  Master  from  the  time  of  his 
trial  to  his  resurrection;  yes,  Peter,  the  liar,  who  had  the 
effrontery  to  rebuke  Ananias,  into  whose  hands  the  keys  of 
heaven  were  given,  and  who  told  a  lie  upon  poor  old  Judas 
long  after  he  was  dead!  Peter,  I  say,  is  the  poltroon  of  the 
Bible,  the  most  contemptible  character  in  the  whole  book. 

"Matthew  says  that  Judas  took  the  money  back  to  those  he 
got  it  from  and,  repenting,  went  off  and  hanged  himself.  Peter 
says  he  bought  land  with  it,  and  falling  headlong  burst  himself 
open.  Which  is  the  more  likely  story?  So  much  for  Peter. 
If  he  repented,  I  am  glad  of  it;  if  he  reformed  and  became 
a  truthful  man,  I  am  gladder  still.  Many  there  are  who  fol- 
low after  Peter  to  this  day,  imitate  and  admire  him,  love  and 
cherish  his  memoiy,  and  expect  to  enter  heaven  by  the  same 
means  Peter  avoided  arrest  at  the  trial  of  the  Master.  These 
people  will  plan  a  terrible  retribution  for  the  author  of  this 
enthymeme,  and  consign  his  soul  to  perdition;  but  truth  is 
mighty  and  will  prevail,  falsehood  will  go  back  into  the  pri- 
meval JN^othing,  and  sin  and  shame  will  pale  in  the  radiant 
light  of  the  God  of  truth. 

"A  third  objection  to  the  teachings  of  Jesus  is  that  he  makes 
an  impossible  condition  in  the  salvation  of  man.  Instead  of 
basing  salvation  upon  an  act,  or  actions,  possible,  at  least,  for 
every  man  to  do,  he  bases  it  upon  an  emotion  of  the  mind 
which  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  man  to  control :  Faith  in  him 
and  love  to  himself.  Fidelity  to  his  teachings,  and  that  alone, 
is  to  give  man  a  seat  in  the  celestial  choir.  No  matter  if  a 
man  spends  his  whole  life  in  doing  good,  never  once  having 
an  evil  thought,  or  committing  an  unlawful  act;  no  matter 
how  hard  he  may  try  to  believe  in  the  Triune  Godhead,  if 
he  fails  in  the  least  bit  to  give  absolute,  unswerving  assent  to 
this  dogma,  he  is  consigned  to  eternal  and  everlasting  torment. 
On  the  other  hand,   he  may  be   a  liar,   a   thief,   a   robber,   a 


The  Teachings  of  Jesus.  205 

ravislier  of  women,  a  murderer ;  he  may  be  steeped  in  sin  of 
every  conceivable  kind  tliroughout  a  whole  lifetime ;  never  hav- 
ing done  a  good  deed  in  all  the  time  allotted  to  man  on  this 
earth,  never  having  had  a  single  pure  thought  from  the  hour 
of  his  birth  to  a  moment  before  death, — 

"  'An  act  of  coutritiou  flashing  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning 
through  the  soul  of  a  dying  man,  may  utterly  and  entirely  change 
the  character  of  his  soul  and  his  relations  to  God,  so  that  he  who 
was  before  the  enemy  of  God,  a  rebel,  loathsome  and  deserving  of 
hatred,  becomes  at  the  A'ery  next  instant,  by  a  sort  of  magic  trans- 
formation, the  friend  of  God,  his  loyal  subject,  beautiful  and  worthy 
of  His  love.  In  such  a  case  as  this,  good  and  not  good,  obedient 
and  not  obedient,  meet  for  Heaven  and  not  meet  for  Heaven,  are 
true  of  the  same  object  within  two  seconds  of  fleeting  time."* 

"Stephen  Girard,  the  millionaire  philanthropist  of  the  City 
of  Brotherly  Love,  who,  perhaps,  made  the  only  honest  fortune 
ever  accumulated  in  these  United  States ;  who  left  a  monument 
of  charity-work  behind  him  unequaled  in  this  world — a  school, 
a  home,  food  and  raiment — for  the  homeless  and  fatherless 
children  of  Philadelphia,  has  been  preached  into  hell  by  min- 
isters of  the  Gospel,  whom  this  man's  charity,  this  anti-Chris- 
tian's love  of  orphan  children,  had  taken  up  out  of  the  gutters 
and  alleys  of  a  great  city  and  raised — fed,  clothed,  and  edu- 
cated. They  are  obliged  to  do  it  or  give  up  the  Gospel  of 
Christ;  Stephen  Girard  was  an  Infidel. 

"The  fourth  and  last  objection  which  I  shall  speak  of  in  the 
teachings  of  Jesus  is  that  he  came  for  the  purpose  of  saving 
only  a  few  of  the  people  of  this  world,  leaving  the  others  to  take 
care  of  themselves  as  best  they  may.  Missionaries  may  go  into 
foreign  lands  and  preach  to  the  heathen.  Christian  ministers 
may  insist  that  the  Gospel  of  Christ  includes  every  creature, 
and  the  Bible  may  be  translated  into  every  tongue  that  is 
spoken  on  this  earth,  but  the  words  of  Jesus  himself  are  more 
in  evidence  than  any  theory  of  the  Church,  or  Papal  Bull  issu- 
ing from  the  Vatican. 

"That  the  Gospel  of  Christ  does  not  include  all  mankind  is 
evidenced  from  the  general  tenor  of  its  teaching,  but  is  more 


♦Catholic  Philosophy  (Logic),  page  39  (Stonyhurst  Series). 


206  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

particularly  marked  in  tlie  directions  given  to  the  Apostles  af- 
ter having  received  their  commissions : 

"  'These  twelve  Jesus  sent  forth,  and  commauded  them,  saying : 
Go  not  into  the  way  of  the  Gentiles,  and  into  any  city  of  the  Samari- 
tans enter  ye  not.  But  go  rather  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of 
Israel.' 

''Here  is  a  positive  command  from  Jesus,  right  in  the  be- 
ginning of  his  ministry,  when  there  could  be  no  question  of 
his  real  presence,  with  all  his  faculties  in  mecliis  rebus,  and  not 
a  doubt  in  the  mind  of  any  one  of  his  apostles.  How  is  this 
to  be  compared  with  that  mythical  command,  after  his  resur- 
rection, when  'some  doubted,'  which  says : 

"  'Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature.' 

"In  one  particular  instance  Jesus  himself  shows  with  what 
contempt  and  indifference  he  looked  upon  outsiders. 

"On  the  coasts  of  Tyre  and  Sidon  lived  a  poor  woman  of 
Canaan.  She  had  a  daughter  who  was  'grievously  troubled 
by  a  devil.'  Jesus  passing  along  that  way,  this  woman  ap- 
j)roached  him  in  the  interest  of  her  daughter,  and  humbly 
begged  him  for  help.  He  not  only  ignored  her  request,  but 
refused  positively  to  speak  to  her.  The  Book  says,  'He  answered 
her  not  a  word.'  She,  in  her  distress,  became  persistent  and 
importunate,  thereby  annoying  his  disciples,  w^ho,  tiring  of  her 
entreaties,  besought  the  Master  to  send  her  aw^ay.  His  answer 
to  this  request  of  his  disciples  shows  that  he  did  not  consider 
this  poor  w^oman,  at  least,  to  be  a  subject  of  his  mercy: 

"  'I  was  sent  but  to  the  sheep  that  are  lost  of  the  house  of  Israel.' 
"x\nd,  in  a  prayer  to  the  Father,  he  said : 

"  'I  pray  for  them :  I  pray  not  for  the  world,  but  for  them  whom 
thou  hast  given  me ;  because  they  are  thine.* 

"The  fourth  chapter  of  Mark  teaches  very  plainly  that  he 
did  not  intend  to  instruct  the  multitude  to  whom  he  preached, 
but  rather  to  confuse  them,  for  he  says : 

'"To  you  (his  disciples)  it  is  given  to  know  the  mystery  of  the 
Kingdom  of  God :  but  to  them  that  are  without,  all  things  are  done 


The  Teachings  of  Jesus.  207 

iu  parables;  that  seeiui,',  they  may  see  and  not  perceive,  and  hearing, 
they  may  hear  and  not  understand ;  lest  at  any  time  they  should  be 
converted,  and  tlieir  sins  should  be  forgiven  them.' 

''But  the  Syroplioeuician  woman  was  not  to  be  deterred  by 
the  imkindness  of  the  disciples,  nor,  as  it  appears,  by  the  un- 
seemly speech  of  Jesus.  She  was  in  sore  trouble  over  the  afflic- 
tion of  her  daughter,  and  she  was  ready  to  sacrifice  herself  for 
the  sake  of  her  child.  Then  it  was  that  she  fell  down  at  his 
feet  and  cried  out,  'Lord,  help  me !'  She  actually  worshiped  him, 
and  even  after  this  homage,  his  answer  to  her  was  as  coarse 
and  churlish  as  the  desertion  of  John  in  prison : 

'"It  is  not  good  to  talce  the  bread  of  the  children  and  cast  it  to 
the  dogs.' 

"And  only  after  this  afflicted  mother  cowered  and  degraded 
herself  to  the  level  of  dogs  did  he  condescend  to  aid  her.  'Yes, 
Lord,'  she  says,  'yet  the  dogs  under  the  table  eat  of  the  chil- 
dren's crumbs.'  This  sharp  retort,  it  seems,  struck  a  vein  of 
humor,  scorn  or  pity,  or  whatever  feeling  you  may  call  it; 
for  he  said  to  her : 

"'For  this  saying,  go  thy  way;  the  devil  is  gone  out  of  thy 
daughter.' 

"Pagan  religions,  in  the  estimation  of  Christians,  have  all 
been  instituted,  organized,  and  kept  in  operation  by  the  devil, 
while  theirs  is  the  chant  of  angels  and  the  voice  of  Almighty 
God  echoing  on  forever  by  virtue  of  its  lofty  sentiments,  its 
inherent  beauty,  and  its  imselfish  love.  Krishna,  as  you  know, 
was  the  God  incarnate  of  the  Hindus,  as  Jesus  was  the  in- 
carnate God  of  the  Christians.  They  both  taught  men  how  to 
pray. 

"Jesus  said: 

"  'Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread.' 

"Krishna  said : 

"  'Lord,  I  do  not  want  wealth,  nor  children,  nor  learning.' 

"Jesus  said : 

"  "Forgive  us  our  debts,  as  we  forgive  our  debtors.' 


208  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"Krishna  said: 

"  'If  it  be  thy  will,  I  will  go  to  a  hundred  hells,  but  grant  me  this, 
that  I  may  love  thee  without  the  hope  of  reward — unselfishly  love 
for  love's  sake.' 

"Jesus  said : 

"  'Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil.' 

"I  know  a  good  old  man,  a  scholar,  a  gentleman,  a  preacher 
of  the  Gospel — who  will  not  repeat  that  line  in  the  Lord's 
prayer.  He  will  not  even  talk  about  it.  Can't  you  imagine 
why?     "What  does  it  imply?     I  leave  it  to  your  own  reflection. 

"One  of  the  disciples  of  Krishna,  the  then  Emperor  of  In- 
dia, was  driven  from  his  throne  by  his  enemies,  and  had  to 
take  shelter  in  a  forest  of  the  Himalayas  with  his  queen,  and 
there  one  day  the  queen  was  asking  him  how  it  was  that  he, 
the  most  virtuous  of  men,  should  suffer  so  much  misery : 

"'Behold,  my  queen,  the  Himalayas,  how  beautiful  they  are;  I 
love  them.  They  do  not  give  me  anything,  but  my  nature  is  to  love 
the  grand,  the  beautiful ;  therefore,  I  love  them.  Similarly,  I  love 
the  Lord.  He  is  the  source  of  all  beauty,  of  all  sublimity.  He  is 
the  only  object  to  be  loved :  My  nature  is  to  love  him,  and,  there- 
fore, I  love.  I  do  not  pray  for  anything ;  I  do  not  ask  for  anything. 
Let  him  place  me  where  he  likes.  I  love  him  for  love's  sake.  I 
cannot  trade  in  love.' 

"Is  there  a  sentiment  in  the  ISTew  Testament  as  pure,  as  un- 
selfish, as  exalted  as  this  ?  'I  cannot  trade  in  love.'  Is  not  the 
whole  scheme  of  Christian  salvation  a  trade  between  God  and 
man?  How  dare  the  Christian  missionary  say  to  the  Hindus, 
'Thou  art  anathema  in  the  sight  of  God'?  But  wherefore  con- 
tend? I  heard  a  good  old  Baptist  brother,  an  educator  of 
w^omen,  the  head  of  a  great  institution  of  learning  in  the 
proudest  State  of  this  Union,  say : 

"  'If  I  knew  the  Christian  religion  was  a  Tie  from  beginning  to  end, 
I  would  not  give  it  up.' 

"He  was  in  love  with  Peter.  The  lantern  of  Diogenes  will 
never  shine  in  the  face  of  sitch  a  man.  Egotheism  is  the  bed 
rock,  the  root  and  branch  of  Christianity." 


The  Answer,  209 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE    ANSWER. 

The  schoolmaster's  friend  had  heen  engaged  in  silent  prayer. 
He  had  listened  to  this  criticism,  not  in  anger,  nor  witli  im- 
patience or  disgust,  but  in  amazement  at  the  recusancy  of  hu- 
man reason.  He  sat  face  to  face  with  an  old  man — a  con- 
scientious, honest,  truthful  old  man — a  man  who  had  spent  his 
whole  lifetime  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  in  impart- 
ing it  to  others.  He  had  been  a  teacher  the  better  half  of  a 
century,  and  never  had  he  turned  off  a  boy  because  he  did  not 
have  the  means  to  pay  for  instruction.  He  had  picked  up  young 
men,  working  at  common  labor  for  a  pittance,  and  taught  them 
to  read,  write,  and  cipher ;  taught  them  to  be  men,  and  he  had 
seen  many  of  them  adorn  the  professions,  and  become  highly 
influential  citizens.  He  not  only  taught  them  books,  but  he 
gave  daily  lessons  in  morals  and  ethical  culture.  He  was  a 
friend  to  the  poor,  and  especially  to  the  young  poor,  who  desired 
to  go  up  rather  than  to  stand  still.  Many  a  respectable  teacher, 
competent  lawyer,  high-toned  physician,  and  lovable  minister 
of  the  Gospel  owed  their  start  and  standing  to  the  encourage- 
ment and  aid  of  this  old  infidel  schoolmaster.  A  few  of  the 
rigidly  righteous  frowaied  upon  him,  and  regarded  him  as  a 
"corrupter  of  youth,"  but  the  general  consent  of  the  com- 
munity in  which  he  was  known  gave  the  verdict  of  oddity, 
and  not  of  vilipendency  to  his  character.  He  had  owned 
slaves  at  one  time,  but  under  his  stewardship  they  might  have 
been  called  dependent  freedmen.  He  censured  that  law  of  the 
South  which  forbade  the  education  of  negroes.  He  was  for 
upbuilding,  elevating  all  mankind.  He  was,  withal,  a  veiy 
religious  man.  He  believed  in  the  One,  Only,  Almighty  God, 
and  to  this  God  of  Knowledge  and  Power  he  rendered  his 
homage.  He  was  not  a  Christian,  and  this  gave  distress  to  his 
friend. 

The  traveler,  since  he  had  been  with  the  schoolmaster,  had 
studied  his  character  closely.  He  knew  that  a  belief  in  the 
Divinity  of  Christ  could  never  be  attained  solely  through  the 
14 


210  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

reasoning  faculties.  Men  had  to  become  as  little  children  first. 
How  was  this  octogenarian  to  be  born  again?  If  he  had  been 
a  bad  man,  a  drunkard,  a  roue,  a  scoffer  even,  he  would  have 
hope  of  touching  the  tender  chord;  but  here  was  a  clean  char- 
acter— a  true  follower  of  the  example  and  precepts  of  the  One 
whom  he  denied;  and  this  denial  was  a  source  of  unutterable 
distress  to  the  man  who  had  learned  to  love  him.  How  to  get 
at  this  man's  heart  was  the  thing  uppermost  in  the  mind  of  the 
traveler.  He  would  appeal  to  his  reason,  and  try  him  with  his 
own  logic.  If  at  all  successful,  he  would,  later  on,  try  the  emo- 
tional side  of  his  nature. 

Rousing  himself  from  his  revery,  and  making  a  last  silent 
invocation  to  the  Source  of  all  Light,  he  said  to  the  school- 
master: ''From  the  standpoint  of  a  deist,  your  criticism  is 
rational,  logical,  and  conclusive ;  but  an  argmnent  consisting 
of  only  two  propositions,  an  antecedent  and  a  consequent  de- 
duced from  it,  is  like  a  syllogism  with  one  premise  omitted — 
it  ends  in  'Paralogical  doubt.'  Enthjanematical  reasoning  is 
the  harlequinade  of  sophistry.  It  plays  the  Merry-andrew, 
and  befuddles  the  intellect  with  its  clownish  tricks.  In  your 
exaggeration  of  man's  vanity  and  egotism,  you  lose  sight  again 
of  your  own  argument  of  the  functional  activity  of  brain-sub- 
stance. The  moment  you  get  away  from  the  material,  and  come 
in  contact  with  the  spiritual,  you  begin  to  doubt  the  power  of 
God.  Your  own  admission  makes  man  the  largest  and  clearest 
image  of  God  in  all  his  works ;  and  yet  you  call  Christianity  an 
Egotheism,  because  it  claims  that  God  came  amongst  us  in  the 
shape  of  a  man. 

"Bend  your  faith  a  little  more  in  the  direction  of  your  scien- 
tific theology,  and  you  will  have  less  trouble  with  the  Man-God 
of  the  Christian  world.  If  the  brain  of  the  average  man  has  the 
power,  as  you  admit,  and  argue  that  it  has,  to  collect  and  for- 
mulate into  an  individual  substance  or  entity  that  which  we 
call  the  mind,  and  that  entity  really  is  a  part  and  parcel  of 
God  himself,  then,  by  analogy,  comparing  the  coarsest  with  the 
finest  of  human  brains,  where  is  the  limit  to  God's  power  of 
making  brain-substance  fine  enough  to  collect  all  his  attributes 
within  the  compass  of  one  human  brain  ?  The  elephant  and  the 
humming-bird  are  made  of  the  same  material,  yet  the   hum- 


The  Answer.  211 

ming-bird's  heart  beats  twenty  times  faster  than  the  elephant's. 
The  muscles  of  the  humming-bird's  wings  contract,  perliaps, 
five  hundred  times  while  the  elephant's  leg  muscle  contracts 
once.  This  little  bird's  wings  flap  so  rapidly  that  they  give 
out  a  musical  note.  This  is  the  difference  between  fineness  and 
coarseness.  Railroad  bars  and  watch-springs  are  made  of  the 
same  material.  One  railroad  bar  made  into  hair-springs  of  the 
finest  watches  would  sell  for  enough  to  build  the  Union  Pacific 
Road.  It  is  only  a  matter  of  fineness.  The  Australian  sav- 
age and  Sir  Isaac  Newton  had  brain-substance  very  much 
alike,  and  of  the  same  material.  The  difference  in  their  minds 
is  mainly  a  matter  of  fineness  or  coarseness  of  brain-substance. 
ISTow,  if  Sir  Isaac's  brain  could  collect  so  much  more  of  tlie 
Divine  attributes  than  that  of  the  savage,  where  is  the  limit 
of  God's  power  to  refine  brain-substance  ?  I  take  you  on  your 
own  grounds — we  will  argue  from  the  same  standpoint,  and  let 
reason  be  the  arbiter. 

"We  have  the  account  of  a  man  who,  it  is  believed,  had 
within  himself  every  attribute  of  Almighty  God.  Knowing 
what  we  do  about  matter  in  its  different  states,  I  see  no  reason 
why,  from  your  own  point  of  view,  the  brain  of  Jesus  Christ 
should  not  be  fine  enough  to  take  in  every  attribute  of  the 
Deity,  and  make  him  God  also.  The  same  reasoning  would 
make  every  man  a  demigod,  and  your  thrust  at  Christian  Ego- 
theism  and  man's  egotism  loses  its  bitterness,  and  places  man 
in  his  right  relation  with  his  Maker.  If  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
laid  aside  his  reason  when  he  accepted  the  Trinity,  it  was  be- 
cause he  had  not  studied  the  mutual  relations  of  matter  and 
spirit,  the  interdependence  of  one  upon  the  other  in  the  mani- 
festation of  thought.  You  seem  to  be  on  the  right  track  at 
times,  but  you  stop  short  of  the  consequent  of  your  own  phi- 
losophy. If  God  can  impart  a  portion  of  his  attributes  to  man 
without  detracting  from  Himself,  why  can  He  not  impart  all? 
Don't  you  see  that  your  own  philosophical  deductions,  carried 
to  their  ultimate  conclusions,  can  make  Christ  God,  and  yet 
leave  God  intact,  thereby  making  two  Gods,  and  at  the  same 
time  having  only  one?  Take  a  familiar  example  from  the 
mathematics  as  an  illustration:  No  Divine  Power  can  set 
aside  the  law  that  all  the  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two 


212  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

right  angles.  This  is  a  truth  as  eternal  as  God  is  eternal.  It 
existed  before  the  world  was,  and  will  exist  to  all  eternity. 
It  is  absolutely  impossible  that  in  any  portion  of  the  universe, 
actual  or  possible,  that  this  truth  can  be  a  falsehood.  It  is 
susceptible  of  demonstration  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  cultivated 
minds.  No  man  ever  did  or  ever  will  doubt  this  truth  whose 
mind  is  sufficiently  developed  and  cultivated  to  comprehend  its 
proof.  It  was  a  truth  before  any  human  mind  ever  recog- 
nized it,  and  will  remain  a  truth  after  every  mind  on  this  earth 
is  possessed  of  it.  It  is  one  truth  among  thousands,  and  it  is 
only  one  truth,  but  it  exists  in  China  as  well  as  in  America ; 
in  Ethiopia  as  well  as  in  England.  It  is  everywhere ;  still 
it  is  only  one  truth.  You  have  it,  but  your  neighbor  has  not. 
You  give  it  to  him,  and  then  he  has  it,  but  that  does  not  take 
it  from  you.  You  both  have  it;  twenty,  a  hundred,  a  thousand 
men  have  it,  still  it  is  but  one. 

"God  is  no  more  a  Material  Being  than  truth  is  a  material 
entity;  then,  why  not  two,  three  Gods:  a  million  demigods,  and 
yet  but  one  God  ?  Truth  exists  whether  you  know  it  or  not ; 
so  with  God.  If  it  be  desirable  to  know  truth,  it  is  equally 
desirable  to  know  God.  We  can  know  Him  a  little  just  as  we 
know  a  little  truth.  The  Trinity  is  not  a  supernatural,  un- 
reasonable dogma,  and  is  no  more  of  a  mystery  than  truth  is  a 
mystery.  If  we  accept  the  one,  why  not  accept  the  other? 
You  must  give  up  your  theory  of  the  functional  activity  of 
brain-substance,  or  else  admit  our  Blessed  Trinity. 

"Having  arrived  at  the  Godhood  of  Christ  by  a  process  of 
reasoning  similar  to  your  own,  your  criticism  of  his  teachings 
loses  its  acrimony  and  falls  limp  at  your  feet.  Think  over  it, 
my  friend,  and  let  your  reason  look  on  both  sides  of  every 
mooted  question.  I  don't  propose  to  preach  you  a  sermon 
now.  Perhaps,  later  on,  I  may  have  something  to  say  about 
the  ignorance  of  man  and  the  folly  of  intellectual  pride." 

The  schoolmaster's  mind  had  gotten  on  a  different  line  of 
thought.  His  materialism  was  becoming  more  thoroughly  mixed 
with  spiritualism.  His  Gargantuan  mass  of  brain-substance 
was  dwindling  away  into  a  Liliputian  morsel.  He  was  begin- 
ning to  see  that,  in  the  realm  of  thought,  quality  had  more 
weight  than  quantity.     Sir  Isaac's  brain  Avas  but  little  larger 


The  Answer.  213 

than  that  of  the  Australian  savage.  An  ounce  of  watch-spring 
was  no  bigger  than  an  ounce  of  railroad  bar.  The  humming- 
bird was  much  smaller  than  the  elephant.  Gross  matter  had 
bulk,  fine  matter  had  strength.  The  ant  could  carry  a  stone 
larger  than  its  body,  and  the  flea  could  hop  a  hundred  times 
its  own  length.  If  the  savage  brain  represented  one  unit,  and 
Newton's  brain  represented  a  thousand  units,  what  might  not 
the  brain  of  Christ  represent?  The  thought  was  appalling. 
Doubter  that  he  was,  he  began  to  doubt  his  doubt.  To  the  God 
of  his  conception  he  granted  infinite  power  over  all  possible 
things.  In  the  brains  of  animals  and  men  he  saw  a  finite 
series  of  energies  for  the  development  of  the  Divine  attributes ; 
why  not  an  infinite  series?  If  the  brain  of  Jesus  ended  the 
series,  and  that  series  terminated  nowhere,  what  right  had 
he  to  criticise  his  work  upon  earth  ?  As  well  might  he  criticise 
God  for  the  cyclone  and  the  earthquake,  the  storm  and  the 
shipwreck.  His  explanation  of  the  origin  of  evil,  by  a  mal- 
adroit movement  in  forging  the  chain  of  cause  and  effect,  pos- 
sibly, might  have  extended  to  the  copying,  the  translating,  and 
the  interpretation  of  obscure  passages  in  the  Gospels,  and  left 
a  misshapen  link  in  his  own  mind  which  under  a  more  careful 
manipulation  of  the  reasoning  powers  might  be  straightened, 
polished,  and  set  in  harmony  with  the  rest  of  the  chain.  This 
might  be  a  possible  condition,  notwithstanding  the  inspiration 
of  the  writers,  and  the  painstaking  efforts  of  the  copyists,  the 
translators,  and  the  interpreters.  He  admitted  the  gigantic 
power  of  error,  and  its  exhaustless  energy.  His  philosophy 
began  to  assume  an  ugly  shape. 

These  reflections  wound  themselves  in  and  out  of  the  old  man's 
mind  after  the  traveler  had  ceased  to  talk.  He  did  not  say  a 
word.  They  both  got  up  and  walked  off  into  the  fields  and 
the  woods.  They  viewed  nature  and  talked  about  nature — 
the  birds,  the  trees,  the  growing  crops;  and  when  they  got 
tired,  returned  to  the  house,  both  of  them  in  a  good  humor. 


214  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XXiy. 

GOING   TO    CHURCH. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  the  sclioolmaster  asked  his 
friend  if  he  would  like  to  go  to  the  "preachment,"  as  he  some- 
times called  it.  The  church  building  was  but  a  short  distance 
from  the  old  man's  residence,  and  the  congregation,  at  that 
time,  was  presided  over  by  an  eminent  divine  who,  in  after 
years,  became  famous  as  the  cure  of  the  '^Church  of  the  Stran- 
gers" in  Xew  York  City. 

As  an  additional  tribute  to  the  memory  of  a  real  character, 
whose  mode  of  thought  is  largely  depicted  in  this  book,  I  may 
quote  from  a  popular  Sunday  magazine  in  which  the  writer 
said: 

"Some  years  ago,  among  the  churclies  to  which  the  editor  of  this 
magazine  ministered  in  North  Carolina  was  one  called  'Smith's 
Chapel.'  It  would  seat  about  two  hundred  white  and  one  hundred 
colored  people,  but  in  that  climate  a  large  part  of  the  year  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  the  congregation  sat  outside.  The  nearest  house 
to  this  little  chai)el  was  the  dwelling  of  a  gentleman  who  was  one 
of  the  most  famous  school-teachers  in  his  native  State.  He  was  the 
college  mate  of  James  K.  Polk,  and  the  first  time  we  ever  saw  him 
was  when  he  had  just  completed  a  walk  of  fifty  miles  to  meet  his 
old  college  friend  at  the  university. 

"Mr.  John  G.  Eliot  got  his  middle  initial  from  his  resemblance  to 
a  ghost.  He  was  usually  known  as  'Mr.  Ghost  Eliot.'  Small,  thin, 
washed  out  by  multitudinous  ablutions,  built  after  the  architectural 
design  of  an  interrogation  mark,  with  a  disproportionately  large 
head,  the  white  hair  on  which  was  cropped  to  a  length  measured 
exactly  by  the  thickness  of  the  comb,  he  was  a  man  whose  appear- 
ance attracted  attention  everywhere.  In  some  departments  he  was 
very  learned,  and  his  solid  acquirements  dominated  his  eccentricities 
and  won  for  him  the  respect  of  a  large  class  of  citizens.  He  was 
what  the  colored  people  would  call  'a  powerful  hearer  of  de  Word.' 
Upon  warm  days  he  would  walk  into  the  meeting-house,  throw  his 
coat,  if  he  had  one,  over  the  back  of  his  seat,  pull  off  his  shoes  to 
cool  his  understanding,  and,  propping  his  head  against  his  left  hand 
and  supporting  his  left  elbow  with  his  right  hand,  he  set  himself 
to  penetrate  the  speaker  with  augur  eyes.  The  thing  his  soul  most 
hated  was  nonsense.  He  had  no  kind  of  reverence.  He  would  take 
up  a  slave  or  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  with  e<iual  patience,  and 
by  Socratic  methods  exhibit  to  him  the  ridiculousness  of  his  errors. 


Going  to  Church.  215 

"If  within  the  reach  of  practicability,  Mr.  Ghost  Eliot  was  always 
at  any  service  this  editor  held  within  his  range.  There  are  readers 
of  this  magazine  in  North  Carolina  who,  when  they  peruse  this 
ai'ticle,  will  recollect  how  sometimes,  when  an  assertion  had  been 
roundly  made  by  the  preacher,  Mr.  Eliot  would  rise  in  his  place  and 
say,  'Doctor,  what  is  supposed  among  theologians  to  be  the  proof  of 
that?'  or,  'Doctor,  I  have  heard  that  circumstance  stated  quite 
differently,'  or,  'Doctor,  that  statement  of  yours  has  been  publicly 
denied  in  the  papers.' 

"There  was  no  laughing.  Mr.  Eliot  was  the  oracle  of  that  neigh- 
borhood. There  were  boys  about  there  whom  his  skeptical  ideas  had 
Infected ;  there  were  people  in  that  audience  not  to  be  surpassed  in 
what  is  called  'a  Boston  audience' ;  and  Joseph  Cook  never  ran  a 
severer  gauntlet  in  the  Athens  of  America  than  the  youug  professor 
from  the  university  ran  in  that  chapel  in  the  pine  woods.  No  one 
laughed ;  every  one  listened ;  and  if  Mr.  Eliot  had  frequently  got  the 
better  of  the  preacher  the  preacher's  occupation  would  have  been 
gone. 

"To  this  day  we  feel  the  healthy  influence  of  the  instantaneous 
criticism.  To  this  day,  in  preaching  every  now  and  then,  it  occurs 
to  us  that  somewhere  in  the  church  there  may  be  a  'Ghost  Eliot,' 
who  does  not  'speak  out  in  meeting,'  but  carries  the  objection  away 
in  his  soul.     Would  it  not  be  better  for  men  to  speak  out?" 

They  went  to  churcli,  and  tlie  minister  preached  one  of  his 
soul-stirring  sermons.  With  the  eloquence  peculiar  to  Deems, 
the  preacher  discoursed  upon  the  folly  of  unbelief,  and  the 
discontent  of  philosophic  serenity.  Knowing  his  audience,  he 
descanted  as  few  can  in  the  arena  of  metaphysical  subtleties. 
He  spoke  of  the  human  mind  and  its  limitations,  its  powerless- 
ness  to  grapple  with  the  whole  of  truth.  He  admitted  the  great- 
ness of  man,  but  he  drew  a  line  when  it  came  to  God.  Man 
was  finite;  God  was  infinite.  A  comparison  between  the  two 
could  not  be  made,  yet  the  finite  was  the  image  of  the  infinite, 
and  to  get  a  faint  idea  of  God  a  man  must  know  himself.  If 
a  grain  of  sand  could  think,  it  might  have  a  feeble  concep-* 
tion  of  the  earth;  if  a  mustard  seed  had  intelligence,  it  might 
conceive  of  the  planet  Jupiter.  The  sand  is  a  miniature  image 
of  the  earth,  and  the  mustard  seed,  at  least,  has  the  form  of 
Jupiter.  The  sand  is  not  only  an  image,  but  it  is  a  part  of 
the  earth,  and  whilst  a  part,  it  is  a  separate  and  individual 
part.  So  with  man ;  if  God  has  separated  the  civic  ego  from 
Himself,   and  made   it   an  individual  being,   it  is   as   much   a 


216  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

separate  personality  from  God  as  the  grain  of  sand  is  a  separate 
tiling  from  the  earth.  And,  being  a  separate  personality,  and 
at  the  same  time  an  uncompounded  essence,  it  must  remain  for- 
ever the  same  individual  ego,  incapable  of  absorption  into  the 
fou2itain-head,  indestructible,  immortal. 

Like  the  atom  of  matter,  the  civic  ego  may  form  combina- 
tions, but  its  individuality  is  never  destroyed.  States,  govern- 
ments, armies,  corporations,  societies,  families,  all,  are  homo- 
geneous compounds  of  the  heterogeneous  hypostases.  Person- 
alities may  be  as  vi^idely  different  as  the  ultimate  particles  of 
matter,  but  in  blending  one  with  the  other  we  see  temporary 
organizations  as  unstable  and  as  easily  disintegrated  as  the 
combinations  of  matter. 

Governments  change,  families  i*un  out,  corporations  melt 
away,  and  partnerships  dissolve,  but  the  basic  intrinsicalities 
of  all  these  remain,  because  they  are  from  God.  The  atom  of 
spirit  is  as  indestructible  as  the  atom  of  matter.  Through  all 
the  multitudinous  changes,  combinations,  and  disintegrations 
of  the  spiritual  forces  of  this  universe  the  civic  ego  remains 
intact ;  maintains  its  own  individuality,  defies  time  and  change, 
and  whether  in  one  part  of  the  realm  of  infinity  or  another,  it 
is  forever  the  one  indestructible,  unchangeable  spark  from  the 
everlasting  to  the  everlasting.  Being  made  after  the  manner 
of  God,  a  part  of  Himself,  it  is  the  offspring  of  God,  and 
owes  to  Him  obedience,  reverence,  and  love.  Separated  from 
the  Father,  cast  upon  the  sea  of  life  Avithout  knowledge,  with- 
out a  guide,  its  business  was  to  obey.  Like  a  child  without 
experience,  it  should  not  have  asked  for  reasons;  temptations 
should  have  been  passed  by,  and  with  a  steady  eye  upon  the 
command  of  God,  man  should  not  have  strayed  from  the  path 
of  duty,  should  not  have  listened  to  the  voice  of  the  tempter, 
should  not  have  fallen  from  his  high  estate.  But,  alas !  the 
temptation  was  irresistible,  the  fruit  was  pleasant  to  look  upon, 
its  taste  was  delightfully  sweet;  knowledge  took  the  place  of 
innocence,  and  bitterness  seated  itself  in  the  soul.  ''What  have 
I  done?"  said  the  man  in  his  agony,  "I  will  hide  from  God; 
I  will  deny  his  acquaintance;  I  will  associate  henceforth  with 
devils."  But  the  all-searching  eye  was  upon  him.  The  cover- 
ing of  fig  leaves  would  not  avail.     He  could  not  hide;  neither 


Going  to  Church.  217 

can  jou  hide,  my  friend.  God,  in  his  loving  mercy,  took  pity 
upon  his  erring  child.  He  provided  a  remedy  for  the  pain  of 
disobedience.  That  remedy  is  offered  you  to-day.  Take  it  and 
all  will  be  well ;  reject  it  and  suffer  the  consequences. 

"For  God  so  loved  the  world  th;it  be  gave  his  only  begotten  Son, 
that  whosoever  believetb  in  liim  should  not  perish,  but  have  ever- 
lasting life." 

''What  more  can  you  ask?" 

Deems  always  preached  from  his  own  pulpit  at  some  par- 
ticular person  in  his  audience;  hence,  the  one  invariable  direct- 
ness of  his  aim  and  the  penetrative  quality  of  his  messages. 
When  preaching  to  a  strange  audience  he  preached  at  himself. 
Somebody  was  always  hit.  He  wasted  no  ammunition  shooting 
in  the  air  with  both  eyes  shut.  To-day  he  preached  at  the 
schoolmaster.  Everybody  understood  it.  Mr.  Eliot  did  not 
speak  out  in  meeting;  but  his  eyes  Avere  moist.  At  the  close 
of  the  sermon  he  met  the  preacher  and  introduced  his  friend. 
He  spoke  of  him  as  a  profound  scholar,  a  brilliant  talker,  a 
good  listener  and,  above  all,  as  an  humble  Christian.  The 
])reacher  shook  his  hand  with  the  cordiality  of  a  brother,  and 
complimented  him  on  the  opportunity  he  had  of  knowing  a  rare 
character.  The  traveler  said  but  little,  yet  his  eye,  his  counte- 
nance, his  actions  showed  the  interest  he  took  in  his  friend,  and 
the  profound  regard  he  had  for  the  ministerial  calling.  The 
rumor  went  round  that  he  was  a  new  preacher  from  a  foreign 
land,  and  that  Mr.  Eliot  had  become  much  interested  in  the 
gospel-story  as  set  forth  by  the  stranger.  There  had  been  some 
talk  in  the  neighborhood  about  the  visitor  at  the  schoolmaster's 
house  prior  to  this  Sunday  meeting.  His  track  had  been  seen 
in  the  road,  and  much  gossip  had  passed  between  neighbors  as 
to  who  and  what  he  was.  Some  said  he  was  a  shipwrecked 
sailor  for  whom  the  "Old  Ghost"  had  provided  a  temporary 
home;  others,  that  he  was  a  college  professor  making  a  tour  of 
the  schools.  Some  of  the  evil-minded  said  he  was  an  escaped 
convict,  and  thought  Mr.  "Ellet,"  as  they  called  the  school- 
master, ought  to  be  prosecuted  for  harboring  a  criminal.  Such 
is  the  covinous  spirit  of  man,  that  even  some  of  the  good  people 
of  the  community  began  to  speak  harshly  of  the  "Ghost"  and 


218  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

his  protege.  But  after  this  meeting  the  discovery  was  suddenly 
made  that  the  stranger  was  a  gospel  missionary — an  itinerant 
evangelist  of  high  repute,  who  had  been  sent  to  look  into  the 
spiritual  condition  of  the  noted  infidel.  A  few  days  afterward 
the  report  went  far  and  wide  that  Mr.  Eliot's  preacher,  as  they 
now  called  him,  would  preach  at  "Smith's  Chapel"  at  the  next 
monthly  meeting.  Nothing  else  was  talked  of.  Most  extrava- 
gant stories  went  out,  as  much  in  his  favor  as  before  against 
him.  Visitors  called,  and  messengers  came  to  ask  if  he  intended 
to  preach  at  the  next  regular  appointment.  It  was  a  leisure 
time  of  the  year,  the  crops  had  been  laid  by,  visiting  was  in 
order,  and  the  spirit  of  gossip  ran  riot  in  the  community.  Old 
church  members  were  excited,  young  converts  were  enthusiastic, 
and  sinners  troubled.  Each  family  wanted  to  see  its  neighbors 
and  discuss  the  new  sensation.  For  three  weeks  the  public  roads 
and  bypaths  were  lined  with  vehicles  and  pedestrians,  all  seek- 
ing vent  to  their  pent-up  excitement.  As  the  day  approached 
for  the  next  meeting  at  the  "Chapel"  the  rosy-cheeked  girls  and 
sunburnt  boys  vied  with  each  other  in  their  determination  to 
look  their  best  in  the  flimsy  finery  of  the  season.  All  was  a 
flutter,  a  suspense,  an  expectation.  The  older  people  joined  in 
the  enthusiasm  and  laid  plans  by  which  all  could  get  to  the 
church.  In  the  meantime  the  schoolmaster  and  his  friend  re- 
mained at  home.  All  the  exercise  they  took  was  their  morning 
and  evening  walks.  They  were  engaged  in  a  further  study  of 
man  and  his  motives. 


Starting  in  Life.  219 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 

STARTING    IN    LIFE. 

The  weather  was  hot,  and  after  an  early  breakfast  on  Mon- 
day morning  following  the  Sunday  meeting  at  the  "Chapel," 
Mr.  Eliot  and  his  friend  started  oif  on  their  morning  walk. 
The  schoolmaster  had  thought  a  good  deal  about  Deems'  sermon 
of  the  day  before,  and  had  made  up  his  mind  to  investigate 
more  thoroughly  the  doctrine  of  Christian  revelation ;  but  this 
morning  his  mind  had  dropped  back  into  the  old  rut  of  secular 
philosophy,  and,  remembering  that  he  had  left  the  youth  upon 
the  verge  of  manhood,  or  at  that  intermediate  stage  between 
youth  and  manhood  where  the  individual  is  a  mere  cipher  in 
the  body  politic,  he  commenced  abruptly,  as  if  they  had  just 
been  discussing  the  subject,  by  saying:  "If  any  period  of  life 
is  more  menacing  than  another  to  the  character,  happiness,  and 
usefulness  of  the  individual,  it  is  that  uncertain  length  of  time 
between  graduation,  or  what  is  called  a  finished  education,  and 
the  establishment  of  one's  self  in  business.  Youth  is  bade  adieu 
with  less  regret  than  boyhood,  for  youth  has  never  yet  been  a 
period  of  felicity  in  the  growth  of  man,  and  notwithstanding 
the  dark  midnight  of  manhood  is  now  to  be  traversed  with  a 
feeble  and  flickering  light — the  light  of  inexperience — it  is  a 
welcome  deliverance  from  the  thraldom  of  juniority.  With 
hope  as  a  beckoning  signal,  with  prudence  as  a  guide,  and  with 
ambition  for  a  goad  to  exertion,  the  young  man  of  average 
intelligence  will  soon  be  on  the  highway  of  life;  and,  barring 
fatalities,  he  will  be  numbered  with  the  thousands  of  respecta- 
ble, commonplace  human  units  which  continually  recruit  the 
great  army  of  civilized  life.  These  men  live  and  die,  and  make 
no  impression  upon  the  body  politic  save  as  additions  to  its 
bulk.  They  are  what  they  are  from  the  smooth  and  even  causes 
of  tranquil  nature,  and  they  act  as  ballast  to  the  Ship  of  State 
on  the  stormy  seas  of  active  life. 

"If  we  investigate  the  causes  which  serve  to  make  up  this 
class,  w^e  shall  find  them  the  same  that  operate  to  make  heroes, 
statesmen,  philosophers,  and  other  extraordinary  characters;  but 
these  causes  are  so  evenly  balanced  in   the  formation  of  the 


220  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

ordinary  individual  that,  from  want  of  some  cogent  feeling 
impelling  him  to  carry  reflection  into  action,  knowing  what  he 
ought  to  do,  he  still  does  nothing.  Like  a  sluggish  stream,  his 
life  current  flows  placidly  along  without  a  ripple  or  an  eddy, 
serving  its  useful  purpose  without  flood  or  tide,  and  at  last 
arriving  at  that  port  where  caste  is  broken,  where  beggar  and 
king  have  no  distinction.  Men  of  great  reasoning  powers  are 
notoriously  oftentimes  incapacitated  thereby  from  energetic  ac- 
tion; they  balance  reasons  so  nicely  that  no  one  of  them  out- 
weighs another;  think  so  precisely  over  the  event  that  they  can 
come  to  no  decision.  With  them,  as  with  Hamlet,  meditation 
paralyzes  action.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  case  of  extraor- 
dinary individuals,  one  or  more  of  these  same  causes  so  over- 
balance the  others  as  to  drive  that  particular  person  into  deter- 
minations and  actions  which  give  him  a  name  amongst  men. 
Thus,  the  vaulting  ambition  of  N^apoleon  set  him  above  all  men 
in  the  role  of  self-aggrandizement.  The  religious  enthusiasm 
of  Peter  the  Hermit  enabled  him  to  set  on  fire  the  heart  of  all 
Europe,  to  the  destruction  of  millions,  in  what  would  now  be 
considered  a  piece  of  absolute  folly.  The  desire  for  wealth 
dominating  all  other  feelings  enables  some  men  to  accumulate 
princely  fortunes ;  the  love  of  knowledge  goads  others  to  efforts 
in  the  line  of  mental  culture,  which  not  infrequently  end  in 
calenture  of  the  brain.  The  love  of  adventure  drives  some  men 
to  the  ]N"orth  Pole,  and  others  to  the  heart  of  Africa.  The 
inventive  faculty  being  strongest  in  others,  brings  forth  Edi- 
sons.  Morses,  Howes,  and  Whitneys.  And  so  it  is  with  sur- 
roundings, opportunities,  and  times. 

"Our  ovsm  Washington,  Lincoln,  Grant,  and  Lee  are  heroes 
by  force  of  time,  circumstance,  and  opportunity;  but  some- 
thing within  himself  made  Jackson  the  idol  of  his  followers 
and  the  terror  of  his  opponents.  Bums  was  a  poet  in  spite  of 
the  plow,  and  as  the  coulter  turned  the  sod  and  crashed  through 
the  'wee  bit  housie,'  one  of  the  finest  sentiments  ever  engen- 
dered in  the  heart  of  man  was  evolved  by  this  incident.  The 
great  cause  here  was  innate,  born  into  the  man,  and  he — the 
'bard  of  passion  and  mirth' — was  simply  an  effect,  as  helpless 
under  the  stimulus  of  the  causes  which  produced  him  as  the 
shipwreck  is  the  effect  of  the  storm,  or  that  death  is  the  effect 


starting  in  Life.  221 

of  disease.  'Perhaps  no  poet  ever  more  truly  sang  "because 
he  must"  than  Burns.'  Cause  and  effect  is  the  unexceptionable 
law  of  the  universe,  and  it  works  in  man  and  his  motives,  his 
will  and  his  actions,  as  invariably  as  it  works  in  the  machine  or 
the  tidal  wave.  It  is  folly  to  speak  of  a  man  as  self-made.  No 
matter  who,  when,  or  where  he  may  be,  the  individual  and 
everything  connected  with  his  personality  are  effects.  Some- 
thing or  many  things  antedating  him,  working  in  harmony  or 
discord,  evolve  the  man,  and  the  man  is  the  product  of  this 
something  or  these  many  things.  Theologians  admit  that  God 
himself  is  a  necessary  Being,  and  being  without  cause,  he  is 
independent  of  cause  and  therefore  free;  but  no  caused  being 
can  possibly  be  free,  for  that  would  make  him  independent  of 
cause  and  self-existent. 

"As  illustrative  of  this  homely  philosophy,  we  will  take  the 
young  doctor  at  the  bedside  of  his  first  patient.  We  will  grant 
him  an  active  mind,  thoroughly  cultivated,  drilled  in  all  the 
technicalities  of  that  pretended  science;  a  thorough  anatomist, 
a  master  of  physiology,  knowing  the  nature  of  drugs  and  their 
therapeutic  application,  versed  in  toxicology,  with  all  the  rules 
of  diagnosis  at  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  a  bacteriologist  who  can 
distinguish  the  germ  of  typhoid  from  yellow  fever;  with  his 
diploma,  his  State  license,  his  medicine  chest,  and  self-confi- 
dence. We  will  send  him  into  the  bedroom  of  a  young  mother 
with  a  squalling,  kicking,  sniveling  three  months'  old  infant  in 
her  lap,  into  whose  ear  she  has  exhausted  the  vocabulary  of 
baby  talk,  and  with  tears  in  her  own  eyes  she  has  decided  that 
of  all  mothers  she  is  the  most  wretched.  'Oh,  doctor,'  she  says, 
'please  do  something  for  my  baby.  I  know  he  is  going  to  die. 
He  has  colic  or  appendicitis  or  something.  I  believe  he  is 
going  to  have  a  fit.  Is  it  brain  fever?  Look  at  his  eyes;  he 
won't  nurse — dreadful — he  is  all  swelling  up.  Do,  for  heaven's 
sake,  do  something  for  him.'  And  the  young  doctor,  full  of 
himself,  full  of  theories,  full  of  what  he  conceives  to  be  the 
science,  if  not  the  art  of  healing,  endeavors  to  get  in  a  word, 
but  the  wails  of  the  mother  and  the  yells  of  the  youngster  make 
his  questions  inaudible  and  unintelligible.  In  the  din  and  con- 
fusion he  is  about  to  ransack  his  medicine  case  for  a  drug,  but 
fortunately  for  the  child,  just  at  this  moment  an  old  neighbor- 


222  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

hood  woman  walks  in,  and,  with  the  intuition  of  experience, 
takes  the  infant  on  her  lap  and  begins  to  undress  it.  As  a 
fastening  to  an  undergarment  she  finds  a  misdirected  pin  mak- 
ing savage  jabs  into  the  delicate  flesh  of  the  unfortunate  babe. 
Here  is  cause  and  here  is  effect,  the  same  as  in  the  case  of  the 
old  woman  and  the  young  doctor.  Experience  was  the  cause 
which  enabled  the  old  woman  to  find  the  pin,  and  ignorance  or 
want  of  experience  was  the  cause  which  made  a  fool  of  the 
doctor  and  j^layed  havoc  with  the  mother's  peace.  Is  the  doctor 
free  to  cure  disease  ?  Just  as  free  as  the  wild  bird  is  to  fly ;  but 
the  bird  must  have  wings,  and  the  doctor  must  have  knowledge 
and  experience. 

"Success  or  failure  in  life  is  just  as  dependent  upon  cause  as 
this  infant's  pain  was  dependent  upon  the  prick  of  a  pin ;  but 
to  ferret  out  cause  is  beyond  the  ken  of  man.  If  we  could  know 
causes,  we  could  determine  effects,  and  that  man  who  has  the 
greatest  insight  into  cause  has  the  most  power  to  direct  events. 

"  'Knowledge  is  power.'  This  trite  saying  is  applicable  to 
every  event  of  life,  even  the  minutest ;  but  to  make  it  effectual 
in  the  avoidance  of  error,  it  would  include  omniscience,  and 
that  would  be  destructive  to  man.  Ignorance,  then,  is  not  the 
unmitigated  evil ;  error  is  not  the  sole  bane  of  human  life.  But 
for  these  two  there  could  be  no  progress,  no  advancement  in 
civilization,  no  evolution  in  the  scale  of  being.  The  incentive 
to  exertion  is  that  something  is  lacking — that  we  want  some- 
thing which  we  have  not.  One  of  the  greatest  needs  of  life  is 
knowledge,  but  not  all  knowledge ;  another  great  need  is  money, 
but  not  all  the  money.  A  part  only  is  suited  to  the  finite  crea- 
ture; all,  solely,  belongs  to  the  Infinite — to  God.  If  each  and 
every  one  possessed  unlimited  knowledge,  and  had  an  unlimited 
amount  of  money,  neither  knowledge  nor  money  would  have 
any  value. 

"  'Where  ignorance  is  bliss  'tis  folly  to  be  wise'  is  another 
saying  as  true  as  the  pet  aphorism  of  Bacon.  Many  things  it 
is  better  never  to  know,  but  all  attainable  and  all  useful  knowl- 
edge should  be  sought  by  every  one.  A  recent  tragical  incident 
or  accident  which  caused  the  death  of  one  man,  the  injury  of 
several  others,  and  great  destruction  of  property,  was  caused 
by  the  ignorance  of  a  boy  whose  curiosity  to  see  a  locomotive 


starting  in  Life.  223 

flatten  a  spike  tempted  him  to  place  it  on  the  railroad  track. 
If  the  boy  had  imderstood  a  few  of  the  simplest  laws  of  natural 
philosophy  he  could  have  had  his  spike  flattened  with  no  result 
except  a  slight  jar  to  the  locomotive.  But,  ignorant  of  the  law 
of  bodies  in  motion,  by  a  mere  chance,  he  placed  the  spike  on 
the  off  rail,  with  the  result  of  throwing  the  engine  from  the 
track  and  killing  the  engineer.  Not  knowing  that  bodies  in 
motion  move  in  a  straight  line  forever  until  interrupted  by 
some  other  force,  and  not  knowing  that  railroad  cars  turn  a 
curve  by  lengthening  the  periphery  of  the  outside  wheel  and 
shortening  that  of  the  inside,  thus  enabling  the  off  wheel  to 
circle  a  greater  curve  in  the  same  time  that  the  inside  Avheel 
travels  a  shorter  curve,  and  thereby  enabling  them  to  keep  up 
with  one  another;  and  not  knowing  that  the  moment  contact 
between  the  wheel  and  rail  was  interrupted  by  the  spike,  the 
increased  length  of  the  periphery  of  the  off  wheel  was  reduced 
to  the  length  of  that  of  the  inside  wheel,  thereby  destroying  the 
force  which  kept  the  engine  from  going  in  a  straight  line,  the 
result  was,  that  when  the  off  wheel  fell  from  the  rebound  given 
by  the  spike  it  missed  the  track  and  the  engine  was  ditched. 
Had  he  known  that  every  car  wheel  is  beveled  on  its  face,  and 
that  this  bevel  enables  the  car  to  turn  a  cuiwe  by  increasing 
the  diameter  of  the  outside  wheel,  and  the  sole  poAver  to  turn 
a  curve  lies  in  that  increased  diameter,  and  the  moment  contact 
with  the  rail  is  interrupted  the  virtue  of  that  increased  diameter 
is  destroyed,  and  had  he  been  still  determined  to  have  the  spike 
flattened,  he  would  have  placed  it  on  the  inside  rail  of  the  curve. 
But  had  he  known  all  this  he  would  not  have  risked  the  spike  at 
all.  And  so  with  the  young  doctor:  had  his  knowledge  and 
experience  extended  to  the  possibility  of  a  stray  pin  causing  the 
child's  pain  and  the  mother's  distress,  he  would  have  searched 
for  cause  instead  of  thinking  to  counteract  effect  by  inefficient 
and  dangerous  means.  So  it  is  in  every  department  of  life; 
ignorance  is  the  chief  cause  of  failure,  of  accident,  of  crime 
even.  Suppose  men  could  see  the  final  outcome  of  evil  actions — 
of  sin — would  they  commit  it? 

"But,  again,  imagine  a  world  without  sin !  According  to 
Christian  philosophy,  without  sin  there  would  be  no  repent- 
ance, and  without  repentance  there  could  be  no  rejoicing  in 
heaven.     Is  this  celestial  abode  of  the  Christian  the  reflected 


224  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

image  of  human  ignorance,  or  is  it  a  tenancy — tlie  effect  of 
sin — as  its  formal  cause?  In  a  previous  conversation  you  ad- 
mitted that  it  was  impossible  for  your  mind  to  conceive  of  an 
effect  without  a  cause.  !N'ow,  if  heaven  is  not  self-existent, 
it  is  caused.  If  caused,  and  has  existence,  i.  e.,  if  it  be  a  real 
place,  it  is  the  effect  of  at  least  two  causes — an  efficient  and  a 
final  cause.  Christian  theology  teaches  that  the  final  cause 
of  heaven  is  a  place  of  abode  for  human  beings  after  life  on 
this  earth  is  ended;  for  the  Savior  said:  'I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you.'  It  is  evident  from  this  that  although  the  place 
may  have  been  in  existence,  it  was  in  no  condition  for  regener- 
ated souls;  it  had  at  least  to  be  prepared — refurnished,  per- 
haps— cleaned  up,  it  may  be — who  knows? 

"The  next  question  is,  Who  gets  there?  A  great  deal  of 
rancor  exists  over  this  question,  and  especially  amongst  those 
who  are  surest  of  heaven.  From  the  Christian  evidence,  a 
logical  argument  will  make  the  answer  easy.  Take  the  last  link 
in  the  chain  of  cause  and  effect,  which  is  your  arrival  inside 
the  Golden  Gates,  and  follow  it  back  link  by  link  to  your  ad- 
vent into  this  world,  and  you  vnW  find  your  seat  in  heaven  to 
be  the  effect  of  forgiveness,  and  forgiveness  the  effect  of  re- 
pentance, and  repentance  the  effect  of  sin,  and  sin  the  effect 
of  ignorance,  and  ignorance?  The  self-evident  minus  quantity 
with  which  you  entered  the  world.  The  chain  is  complete, 
the  goal  is  sure,  universal  salvation  is  the  fiat  of  Almighty 
God." 

Here  the  traveler  felt  a  shock,  as  if  he  had  been  struck. 
Where  the  blow  came  from  he  could  not  tell.  He  stopped 
still  in  the  road.     They  stood  face  to  face  arguing. 

"Your  chain,"  he  continued,  "has  a  spurious  link.  In  your 
argument,  repentance  is  bound  to  sin  by  a  thread.  You  must 
forge  another  link  before  it  will  hold.  Between  sin  and  repent- 
ance comes  conscience.  Conviction  of  sin  must  necessarily 
precede  repentance,  for  no  man  can  repent  unless  he  has  some- 
thing to  repent  of.  Repentance,  therefore,  is  not  the  immedi- 
ate effect  of  sin.  Conscience  is  the  next  link  in  the  chain 
which  prepares  the  sinner  for  heaven." 

"You  tie  the  chain  in  a  knot,"  replied  the  teacher,  "by  sub- 
stituting cause  for  effect.     If  any  faculty  of  the  soul  is  with- 


Starting  in  Life.  225 

out  cause,  that  faculty  is  conscience.  Wherever  mentioned, 
and  by  whomsoever  quoted,  it  is  represented  as  cause.  It  is 
never  spoken  of  as  effect,  and  the  different  opinions  concerning 
it  show  that  it  is  not  to  be  relied  upon.     Cruden,  even,  says : 

"  'The  conscience  also,  even  of  the  best,  is  now  and  then  erroneous 
and  doubtful.' 

"It  is  not  a  link  in  the  chain;  it  is  an  outside  cause.  It 
parallels  Elihu  in  the  council  of  Job's  comforters,  and  should 
be  treated  as  Elihu  was  treated.  It  is  an  interloper — a  dis- 
turber of  the  peace — it  knows  too  much.     George  Eliot  said: 

"  'Conscience  is  harder  than  our  enemies, 
Knows  more,  accuses  with  more  nicety.' 

"In  The  Giaour  it  is  represented  as  cause : 

"  'Nor  ear  can  hear,  nor  tongue  can  tell 
The  tortures  of  that  inward  hell !' 

"Milton  called  it  'The  hell  within  him,'  and  said: 
"  'Let  his  tormentor,  conscience,  find  him  out.' 

"Ovid  said: 

"  'Despotic  conscience  rules  our  hopes  and  fears.' 

"Washington  called  it 

"  'That  little  spark  of  celestial  fire.' 

"Shakespeare  said: 

"  'Conscience  is  a  blushing  and  shame-faced  spirit  that  mutinies 
in  a  man's  bosom ;  it  fills  one  full  of  obstacles.' 

"Goldsmith  said : 

"  Conscience  is  a  coward,  and  those  faults  it  has  not  strength  to 
prevent,  it  seldom  has  justice  enough  to  accuse.' 

"In  Richard  III. : 

"  'Conscience  is  a  word  that  cowards  use,  devised  at  first  to  keep 
the  strong  in  awe.' 

"Byron  wrote: 

"  'Whatever  creed  be  taught  or  land  be  trod, 
Man's  conscience  is  the  oracle  of  God.' 
15 


226  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"James  McCosh  says,  in  the  Princeton  Review: 

"  'Regarding  God  as  having  produced  tlie  original  germ  and  guid- 
ing and  guarding  tlie  evolution  of  it,  we  may  surely  regard  the  con- 
science as  possessing  not  only  original  but  hereditary  authority,  as 
the  vicegerent  of  God,  and  speaking  to  us  in  the  name  of  him  who 
has  been  our  Maker  and  is  our  Governor  and  is  to  be  our  Judge.' 

"They  all  represent  it  as  cause,  and  you  say,  '!N'o  man  can 
repent  unless  he  has  something  to  repent  of;  thus  intimating 
that  conscience  is  the  cause  of  repentance.  Now,  suppose  the 
conscience  to  be  good,  can  a  good  conscience  cause  repentance  ?" 

"It  is  the  accusing  conscience,"  replied  the  traveler,  "that 
causes  repentance." 

Teacher. — Then,  without  conscience,  repentance  would  be 
impossible? 

Traveler. — With  a  good  conscience,  repentance  is  unneces- 
sary, and  without  a  bad  conscience  or  an  upbraiding  conscience, 
repentance  is  impossible. 

"Very  w^ell,  then,"  replied  the  teacher.  "Do  away  with  con- 
science altogether,  either  by  force  of  reason,  or,  if  that  be  im- 
practicable, by  continuing  to  sin  until  that  officious  monitor  is 
seared  or  silenced,  and  the  sinner  will  revert  to  absolute  holi- 
ness; for  his  accuser  is  hushed  and  he  cannot  be  convicted." 

"I  don't  very  well  see  that,"  replied  the  traveler. 

Teacher. — Here,  don't  you  see  that  conviction  of  sin  is  a  self- 
conscious  act  in  the  soul  of  the  sinner — that  nothing  can  make 
the  sinner  conscious  of  sin  except  his  oavu  conscience? 

Traveler. — I  admit  that  a  man's  conscience  is  the  monitor 
that  tells  him  he  is  a  sinner,  and  convinces  him  of  his  sinful 
state. 

Teacher. — Then,  without  conscience  the  sinner  could  not 
recognize  his  sin,  and  he  Avould  have  no  accuser. 

"Even  in  that  case,"  replied  the  traveler,  "he  would  none  the 
less  be  a  sinner." 

"How,"  asked  the  teacher,  "can  sin  exist  where  there  is  no 
possible  means  of  recognizing  it?  To  the  blind  man  light  has 
no  existence,  and  to  the  deaf,  sound  is  nothing.  I  admit  that, 
to  the  man  with  a  conscience,  sin  is  a  reality,  just  as  light  is 
a  percept  to  the  man  with  eyes;  but  light  and  sound  cannot 


starting  in  Life.  227 

affect  tlie  blind  and  deaf;  neither  can  sin  affect  the  man  who 
has  no  conscience.  Conscience,  then,  by  the  clearest  logic  is  not 
only  the  cause  of  i*epentance,  as  you  admit,  but  is  the  cause  of 
sin." 

Here  the  traveler  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  off.  For  a 
moment  he  Avas  stupefied.  How  could  he  arg-ue  with  a  man 
who  trampled  in  the  dirt  his  most  sacred  convictions?  His  own 
conscience  had  been  upbraiding  him  for  twenty  centuries,  aud 
now  to  have  it  thrust  upon  him  as  the  cause  of  all  his  misery 
was  too  much! 

Was  it  possible  that  he  was  carrying  in  his  bosom  an  undy- 
ing worm?  Could  it  be  that  the  cause  of  his  pain  was  being 
nurtured  in  his  own  soul?  Rid  of  his  conscience,  would  he  be 
free  ?  He  had  never  thought  of  it  in  that  light  before.  He  had 
repented  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  yet  he  had  not  been  forgiven. 
But  his  was  an  exceptional  case.  He  would  be  free  at  the 
second  coming  of  Christ ;  he  would  wait ;  he  would  bear  his  bur- 
den as  best  he  might. 

The  schoolmaster  walked  along  beside  the  traveler  in  silence. 
He  had  presented  his  side  of  the  argument,  and  he  was  broad 
enough  to  respect  the  feelings  and  thought  of  his  friend.  He 
never  insisted  upon  others  adopting  his  views  further  than 
their  own  reason  would  convince  them.  He  was  tolerant  even 
to  the  whims  and  prejudices  of  all  mankind.  Their  conversa- 
tion on  this  subject  ended  with  their  stop  in  the  road,  and 
they  were  now  back  at  the  house.  They  spent  the  balance  of 
the  morning  in  reading.  After  dinner  the  schoolmaster  brought 
up  the  subject  of  matrimony,  and  like  many  others  who  have 
no  experience  in  a  certain  line,  thought  he  knew  all  about  it. 
His  views  are  given  in  the  next  chapter. 


228  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

MARRIAGE. 

Instead  of  a  languorous  siesta,  after  the  manner  of  a  semi- 
tropic  lazzarone,  the  postprandial  diversion  of  these  venerable 
schoolmen  took  place  in  the  shade  of  a  large  oak  tree  in  the 
center  of  the  yard.  Temperate  in  their  habits,  frugal  in  their 
diet,  and  free  from  the  pernicious  influence  of  that  entire 
class  of  semidrugs  so  much  indulged  in  by  civilized  man,  such 
as  tea,  coffee,  tobacco,  wine,  spices,  and  condiments  of  every 
kind,  their  bodies  were  cool  and  their  minds  clear.  The  mental 
hebetude  incident  to  hot  weather  and  epicurism  was  unknown 
to  both  of  them.  Their  minds  were  as  active  on  a  sultry  day 
as  in  the  midst  of  frost,  and  just  now,  in  the  cool  shade  of  the 
tree,  their  bodily  rest  was  enhanced  by  the  intensity  of  their 
mental  activities.  The  schoolmaster  opened  the  conversation 
in  rather  a  dolorous  vein,  for  he  had  been  thinking  much,  in 
the  forepart  of  the  day,  over  his  past  life  and  the  lonely  condi- 
tion of  his  declining  years.  He  had  asked  himself  many  times 
before,  "Why  is  it  that  I  have  never  married?" 

Had  he  made  a  proper  introspection  he  would  have  seen,  as 
Rondibilis,  the  physician,  saw  in  the  case  of  Panurge,  that 
many  causes  are  continuously  in  active  operation  as  deterrents 
to  wedlock;  and  the  principal  cause  in  the  case  of  the  school- 
master was  his  studious  habits,  his  nice  balancing  of  reasons 
and  his  philosophical  contemplations.  "Nay,"  said  the  physi- 
cian to  Panurge,  "in  such  a  studiously  musing  person,  you  may 
espy  so  extravagant  rapture  of  one,  as  it  were  out  of  himself, 
that  all  his  natural  faculties  for  that  time  will  seem  to  be 
suspended  from  each  their  proper  charge  and  office,  and  his  ex- 
terior ceases  to  be  at  a  stand.  In  a  word,  you  cannot  otherwise 
choose  than  think  that  he  is,  by  an  extraordinary  ecstasy,  quite 
transported  out  of  Avhat  he  was  or  should  be ;  and  that  Socrates 
did  not  speak  improperly  when  he  said  that  'philosophy  was 
nothing  else  but  a  meditation  upon  death.'  Therefore  is  it 
that  Pallas,  the  goddess  of  wisdom,  tutoress  and  guardianess 
of  such  as  are  diligently  studious  and  painfully  industrious,  is 


Marriage.  229 

aud  hath  been  still  accoimted  a  virgin.  The  Muses,  upon  the 
same  consideration,  are  esteemed  perpetual  Maids;  and  the 
Graces,  for  like  reason,  have  been  held  to  continue  in  a  sempiter- 
nal pudicity." 

"For  a  number  of  years,"  began  the  teacher,  "my  constant 
thought  was,  that  sooner  or  later,  I  would  fall  in  love  with  some 
good  woman,  marry  her,  and  raise  a  family  of  my  own.  I 
look  back  now  at  the  golden  opportunities  neglected,  the  waste 
of  moments  precious  in  the  life  of  every  rational  creature,  and 
contemplate  with  horror  the  decrepitude  of  age,  unrelieved 
by  the  sympathy  of  a  solitary  soul.  It  is  a  sad  mistake  for  a 
man  or  a  woman  to  neglect  or  refuse  a  partnership  which,  at 
its  worst,  is  infinitely  better  than  the  solitariness  of  celibacy. 
The  greatest  regret  of  my  life  is  that  I  never  married." 

His  companion  immediately  took  up  the  subject,  and  said: 
"I  believe  the  universal  rule  in  human  experience  is,  that 
men  and  women  who  live  to  be  old,  and  never  marry,  are  sure 
to  regret  it." 

"And,  oftentimes,"  replied  the  teacher,  "those  who  marry 
do  the  same  thing." 

"Yes,"  said  the  traveler,  "regrets  often  follow  marriage, 
but  occasionally  two  people  join  themselves  together  and  live 
a  lifetime  with  no  regrets  for  the  step  taken ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  is,  perhaps,  not  an  instance  in  human  experience 
where  a  man  or  woman  living  to  old  age,  single,  never  experi- 
enced regret." 

"If  your  postulate  be  true,"  replied  the  teacher,  "it  makes 
a  very  strong  point  in  the  argument  for  marriage,  for  where  a 
certainty  of  regret  overtakes  the  celibate,  there  is  at  least  a  pos- 
sibility of  no  regret  where  the  party  marries." 

"The  possibility,"  said  the  traveler,  "certainly  overmatches 
the  probability,  but  the  probability  of  regretting  the  step  comes 
so  near  obscuring  the  possibility  that  it  is  almost  a  game  of 
chance  which  one  shall  outweigh  the  other." 

"This  brings  me,"  replied  the  teacher,  "to  what  I  had  in 
mind  to  say,  and  I  am  sure  if  men  and  women  had  to  give 
reasons  why  they  married,  and  especially  why  they  joined  them- 
selves to  that  particular  person,  the  answer  would  be  as  unin- 


230  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

telligible  to  others  as  unsatisfactory  to  themselves.  If  it  Avere 
possible  for  any  effect  to  exist  without  cause,  this  marrying  and 
giving  in  marriage  would  seem  to  be  as  causeless  as  the  afflic- 
tions of  Job  by  the  hand  of  God.  At  the  root  of  every  marriage 
we  can  safely  comit  on  the  one  universal,  essential  and  legal 
cause,  without  which  marriage  would  be  impossible;  but  this 
cause  acts  independently  of  marriage,  and  Avhilst  marriage  could 
not  be  consummated  without  it,  the  cause  is  not  at  all  depend- 
ent upon  marriage  for  its  first-fruits,  and  would  act  the  same 
if  the  institution  had  never  been  established.  Sexual  attraction 
is  a  law  unto  every  creature  that  has  life,  and  this  law,  in  force 
as  it  now  exists,  makes  the  verbal  command,  'Increase,  multi- 
ply, and  replenish  the  earth,'  a  mere  lavishment  of  words.  If 
the  command  had  been  the  reverse  of  what  it  is,  another  crawl- 
ing temj^ter  Avould  have  entered  the  Eden  of  human  delight  and 
spoiled  the  romance  of  Platonic  love. 

''I  look  upon  marriage  as  a  social  institution  for  the  better- 
ment of  human  conduct,  and  as  it  is  still  'honorable  in  all,' 
perhaps  it  is  the  best  solution  of  the  sex  problem.  But  to  the 
query.  Why  do  men  and  women  marry  ? 

"x\t  the  bottom  of  every  courtship  is  a  fool's  paradise,  an 
ideal  Utopianism  in  which  the  young  people  dream  and  build 
castles,  imagine  all  sorts  of  impossible  conditions,  look  at  one 
another  through  rose-colored  lenses,  and  lust  after  an  ideal, 
rather  than  an  individual.  No  young  man  is  in  love  with  the 
girl  he  is  courting,  and  no  girl  is  in  love  with  the  man  she 
calls  sweetheart.  Both  are  in  love  with  their  own  ideals,  and 
they  are  so  blinded  as  to  see  that  ideal  in  the  person  they  hope 
to  marry.  Strip  the  imagination  of  this  romance,  and  court- 
ship and  marriage  would  be  reduced  to  a  beastly  passion.  To 
simply  join  a  man  and  woman  together  in  a  legal  compact  is 
not  marriage  in  its  essential  feature.  It  may  be  lawful  and 
respectable,  but  the  very  essence  of  marriage  is  love — blind, 
foolish,  unreasonable  love — love  that  will  stand  the  test  of  time, 
circumstance,  and  conduct.  This  kind  of  love  has  no  philoso- 
phy; it  is  not  even  on  speaking  terms  Avith  reason.  It  is  a 
wound — a  puncture  from  one  of  Cupid's  arroAvs.  It  never 
heals ;  it  festers  and  makes  a  running  sore.     Eeason  must  take  a 


Marriage.  231 

back  seat  at  the  marriage  feast.  Sentiment  rules,  or  should 
rule,  Avhen  the  marriage  bell  peals  its  joyous  note.  Love,  like 
the  mole,  is  blind,  and  properly  so,  for  neither  can  live  in  the 
light.  Cupid  is  a  mischievous  god  and  loves  fun.  He  is  not  a 
philosopher,  and  when  the  sage  meets  him  in  debate  he  is  gen- 
erally met  with  an  argument  like  this :  'To  argue  with  me  is 
to  contend  with  sport,  and  to  make  yourself  disagreeable  to 
society.' 

''  'There  are  other  demons  in  our  brotherhood  more  suited 
to  the  philosopher — Flagel,  for  instance;  he  is  the  soul  of  spe- 
cial pleading,  and  the  spirit  of  the  bar.  He  composes  the  rules 
of  court,  invented  the  law  of  libel,  and  that  for  the  imprison- 
ment of  insolvent  debtors;  in  short,  he  inspires  pleaders,  pos- 
sesses barristers,  and  besets  even  the  judges.  It  is  he  whose 
acquaintance  the  philosopher  should  seek.  I  am  more  useful  to 
society;  I  am  not  a  reasoner,  I  am  the  demiurge  of  volup- 
tuousness, or,  to  express  it  more  delicately,  Cupid,  the  god  of 
love;  that  being  the  name  for  which  I  am  indebted  to  the 
poets,  who,  I  must  confess,  have  painted  me  in  very  flattering 
colors.  They  say  I  have  golden  mngs,  a  fillet  bound  over  my 
eyes ;  that  I  carry  a  bow  in  my  hand,  a  quiver  full  of  arrows  on 
my  shoulders,  and  have  withal  inexpressible  beauty.  I  make 
absurd  matches;  I  marry  gray-beards  with  minors,  masters 
with  servants,  and  American  heiresses  with  penniless  European 
nobles.  It  is  I  who  introduced  into  this  world  luxury,  de- 
bauchery, games  of  chance,  and  chemistry.  I  am  the  author 
of  the  first  cookery-book,  the  inventor  of  festivals,  of  dancing, 
music,  plays,  and  the  neAvest  fashions.' 

"This  recital  of  Cupid  may  be  taken  for  what  it  is  worth, 
but  in  seeking  the  causes  of  marriage,  we  may  not  do  better  than 
accept  it  as  truth ;  for  the  very  nature  of  the  compact  precludes 
the  possibility  of  making  it  amenable  to  reason. 

"The  love  of  Heloise  for  Abelard  is  the  most  striking  in- 
stance of  the  power  which  the  mischievous  god  can  exert  over 
the  fairest  and  most  intellectual  of  womankind.  A  thousand 
years  agone,  yet  the  French  people  of  this  day  hold  festivals 
and  cantatas  in  honor  of  the  unparalleled  devotion  of  this  gifted 
but  ill-fated  woman. 


232  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"The  legal  compact  between  these  two  victims  of  Cupid's 
aim,  made  void  by  the  savage  revenge  of  her  uncle,  had  no 
healing  balm  for  the  wound  inflicted.  Haeckel's  'elective  af- 
finity' of  two  differing  cells — the  sperm-cell  and  the  egg-cell — 
held  no  place  in  the  undying  affection  of  this  martyred  wo- 
man. In  a  case  like  this,  'supernatural'  causation  seems  to 
mock  every  natural  explanation.  The  imagination  of  Byron 
enabled  him  to  crown  Haidee  with  a  circlet  of  orange  blos- 
soms, chaste  and  pure  as  the  affection  of  Heloise  for  Abe- 
lard.  This  semisavage  maiden,  reared  in  the  barbaric  splen- 
dor of  her  island  home;  alone  save  a  retinue  of  menials  to  do 
her  bidding,  educated  in  the  simplicity  of  nature;  with  no 
teacher  but  nature's  God;  radiant,  with  the  bloom  of  youth — 
but  hold !    Byron  tells  it  better : 

"  'Her  hair's  loug  auburn  waves  down  to  her  heel 
Flow'd  like  an  Alpine  torrent  which  the  sun 

Dyes  with  his  morning  light — and  would  conceal 
Her  person  if  allow'd  at  large  to  run; 

And  still  they  seem  resentfully  to  feel 

The  silken  fillet's  curb,  and  sought  to  shun 

Their  bonds  whene'er  some  zephyr  caught  began 

To  offer  his  j'ouug  pinion  as  her  fan. 

"  'Round  her  she  made  an  atmosphere  of  life, 
The  very  air  seemed  lighter  from  her  eyes. 

They  were  so  soft  and  beautiful,  and  rife 
With  all  we  can  imagine  of  the  skies, 

And  pure  as  Psyche  ere  she  grew  a  wife — 
Too  pure  even  for  the  purest  human  ties ; 

Her  overpowering  presence  made  you  feel 

It  would  not  be  idolatry  to  kneel.' 

"This  maiden,  I  say,  pure  and  unsullied  as  jSTature's  God 
could  make  her,  beholding  Juan  shipwrecked  upon  her  island 
shore — half  dead,  beautiful,  helpless,  sick  and  friendless — 
she,  in  her  mental  and  spiritual  solitude,  believing  her  father 
dead  from  his  long  absence,  and  craving  the  fruition  of  her  in- 
born capacity,  became  the  natural  and  easy  prey  of  the  love- 
god's  pitiless  shaft.  The  arrow  went  deep  into  her  soul,  the 
wound  became  septic  and  unhealable.  A  purer  joining  of  flesh 
with  flesh  never  went  out  from  cathedral  door  than  the  plight- 


Marriage.  233 

iiig  of  this  young  maiden's  faith  with  that  of  her  lover.  Upon 
the  return  of  her  father,  endeavoring  to  plead  her  cause,  she 
said : 

"  'Oh !  dearest  father,  iu  this  agouy 

Of  pleasure  and  of  pain — even  while  I  liiss 
Thy  garment's  hem  with  transport,  can  it  be 
That  doubt  should  mingle  with  my  filial  joy? 
Deal  with  me  as  thou  wilt,  but  spare  this  boy.' 

"And  when  the  irreconcilable  furj  of  old  Lanibro  prompted 
him  to  rashness,  her  2:)leadings  turned  to  defiance : 

"  'On  me,'  she  cried,  'let  death 
Descend — the  fault  is  mine;  this  fatal  shore 
He  found — but  sought  not.     I  have  pledged  my  faith : 
I  love  him — I  will  die  with  him :     I  knew 
Your  nature's  firmness — know  your  daughter's  too.' 

"And  Haidee  died  the  most  touching,  the  most  pathetic  death 
ever  conceived  and  recorded  by  man. 

"Cupid  is  not  overnice  in  his  aim.  The  fairest  victims  are 
sometimes  overlooked,  while  his  arrow  is  sent  into  the  heart  of 
the  bully,  the  coarse — the  commonplace.  None  are  so  hard  as 
to  turn  its  course  or  blunt  its  point.  Men  cased  in  the  shell  of 
the  armadillo  are  as  vulnerable  as  the  most  delicate  female. 
High,  low,  educated  and  ignorant,  giant  and  dwarf,  rich  and 
poor,  reformed  and  deformed,  handsome  and  plain,  all  entering 
the  Zodiacal  light  under  the  sign  Sagittarius  are  liable  to  be 
hit. 

"Samuel  Johnson,  one  of  the  most  eminent  English  writers 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  had  inherited  from  his  ancestors  a 
scrofulous  taint,  which  it  was  beyond  the  power  of  medicine  to 
remove.  His  features,  which  were  originally  noble  and  not 
irregular,  were  distorted  by  the  malady.  His  cheeks  wei'e  deeply 
scarred.  He  lost  for  a  time  the  sight  of  one  eye ;  and  he  saw 
but  very  imperfectly  with  the  other.  His  manners  were  eccen- 
tric; his  grimaces,  his  gestures,  his  muttering  sometimes  di- 
verted and  sometimes  terrified  people  who  did  not  know  him. 
He  was  always  boorish,  and  for  a  time  in  his  early  manhood 
his  eccentricities  savored  of  insanity.  One  day,  in  the  presence 
of  a  coarse,  buxom  widow,  old  enough  for  his  mother,  the  fickle 


234  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

god  took  aim  at  Johnson's  heart  and  the  arrow  transfixed  both 
him  and  the  widow.  A  marriage  followed  that  was  unaccounta- 
ble from  its  incongruity,  but  it  was  sealed  with  the  stamp  of 
the  Archer,  and  death  itself  was  unable  to  break  the  compact. 
On  her  monument  he  placed  an  inscription  extolling  the  charms 
of  her  person  and  her  manners;  and  when,  long  after  her  de- 
cease, he  had  occasion  to  mention  her,  he  exclaimed,  with  a 
tenderness  half  ludicrous,  half  pathetic,  'Pretty  creature !' 

"But  Cupid  does  not  draw  his  boAV  upon  every  courting 
couple.  He  often  makes  pretense  to  shoot,  and  instead  of  an 
arrow  he  hits  with  a  puff-ball.  These  are  marriages  of  con- 
venience :  mercenary,  conventional  espousals — not  a  making  of 
flesh  one  flesh,  and  of  bone  one  bone.  The  slight  shock  from 
the  puff-ball  disappears  with  the  honeymoon,  and  the  couples 
doubt  being  struck  at  all.  These  marriages  are  the  patrons  of 
the  divorce  courts,  and  abettors  in  the  elopements  of  other  peo- 
ple's wives  and  husbands.  There  are  other  so-called  marriages 
in  which  Cupid  has  no  hand— where  the  suitor  works  the  prob- 
lem out  in  his  own  mind,  and  concludes,  from  a  mathematical 
calculation,  that  he  has  found  his  affinity;  also,  in  the  case  of 
the  strong-minded  woman,  who,  ignoring  the  hints  and  prompt- 
ings of  the  heart,  boldly  assails  the  marriage  problem  from  the 
standpoint  of  reason  and  what  she  calls  common  sense.  The 
trouble  in  these  cases  arises  from  the  premises  taken.  Igno- 
rance here  will  destroy  the  'best  laid  schemes  o'  mice  and 
men' — likewise  of  women.  One  prick  from  Cupid's  arrow  is 
Avorth  all  the  philosophy,  all  the  reason,  and  all  the  common 
sense  that  can  be  brought  to  bear  on  this  subject.  The  trouble 
with  philosophy,  reason,  and  common  sense,  is  it  is  impossible 
for  them  to  get  at  the  bottom  facts.  In  seeking  a  life  partner, 
the  man,  especially,  starts  out  with  tAvo  ideals  in  his  mind — a 
mental  or  spiritual,  and  a  physical  ideal.  A  veil  of  conven- 
tionalities, impossible  to  penetrate,  obscures  the  one,  and  an 
exposition  of  the  other  would  become  a  felo-de-se  to  his  ideal. 

"Men  and  women  recognizing  the  difficulties  attending  all 
marriages  not  guaranteed  by  the  bend  of  Cupid's  bow,  have 
devised  all  manner  of  schemes  to  prevent  or  ameliorate  the  un- 
happiness  and  other  evils  attendant  upon  a  mere  secularizing 
of  the  marriage  compact.     The  most  outre  and  outrageous  con- 


Marriage.  235 

ceptions  have  been  put  into  practice.  For  tlurty  years,  in 
Oneida  County,  New  York,  a  most  revolting  experiment  in 
stirpiculture  was  carried  on  by  men  and  women  of  the  highest 
intellect  and  culture.  It  failed  because  of  its  antagonism  to 
nature  and  its  moral  nastiness.  Polygamy  is  almost  as  old  as 
the  human  race,  and  free-love  is  advocated  now  by  blue-stocking 
women  and  depraved  men.  The  cicisbeo  Avas  at  one  time  as 
necessary  to  the  Spanish  and  Italian  married  woman  as  her 
servants  and  her  finery.  Swift  gives  a  lively  account  of  the 
women  of  Laputa  in  their  efforts  to  vary  the  monotony  of  a 
life  of  ease  and  luxury ;  for  this  is  a  country  of  philosophers, 
where  everything  is  done  according  to  science  and  mathematics. 
If  they  would,  for  example,  praise  the  beauty  of  a  woman,  or 
any  other  animal,  they  describe  it  by  rhombs,  circles,  parallelo- 
grams, ellipses,  and  other  geometrical  terms,  or  by  words  of  art 
drawn  from  music,  needless  here  to  repeat. 

"In  the  description  of  his  visit  to  the  'Flying  Island,'  upon 
which  the  king  and  his  court  reside,  he  makes  Gulliver  say : 

"  'My  first  dinner  consisted  of  two  courses  of  three  dislies  eacli.  In 
the  first  course  there  was  a  shoulder  of  mutton  cut  into  an  equi- 
lateral triangle,  a  piece  of  beef  into  a  rhomboid,  and  a  pudding  into 
a  cycloid.  The  second  course  was  two  ducks  trussed  up  in  the 
form  of  a  fiddle,  sausages  and  puddings  resembling  flutes  and  haut- 
boys, and  a  breast  of  veal  in  the  shape  of  a  harp.  The  servants  cut 
our  bread  into  cones,  cylinders,  parallelograms,  and  several  other 
mathematical  figures. 

"  'The  wives  and  daughters  lament  their  confinement  to  the  island, 
although  I  think  it  the  most  delicious  spot  of  ground  in  the  world; 
and,  although  they  live  here  in  the  greatest  plenty  and  magnificence, 
and  are  allowed  to  do  whatever  they  please,  they  long  to  see  the 
world,  and  take  the  diversion  of  the  metropolis ;  which  they  are  not 
allowed  to  do  without  a  particular  license  from  the  king ;  and  this 
is  not  easy  to  be  attained,  because  the  people  of  quality  have  found, 
by  frequent  experience,  how  hard  it  is  to  persuade  their  women  to 
return  from  below.  I  was  told  that  a  great  court  lady,  who  had 
several  children — is  married  to  the  prime  minister,  the  richest  sub- 
ject in  the  kingdom,  a  very  graceful  person,  extremely  fond  of  her, 
and  lives  in  the  finest  palace  of  the  Island — went  down  to  Lagado 
on  the  pretense  of  health,  there  hid  herself  for  several  months,  till 
the  king  sent  a  warrant  to  search  for  her ;  and  she  was  found  in  an 
obscure  eating-house  all  in  rags,  having  pawned  her  clothes  to  main- 
tain an  old  deformed  footman,  who  beat  her  every  day,  and  in  whose 


236  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

company  she  was  taken,  uuieh  against  her  will.  And  although  her 
husband  received  her  with  all  possible  kindness,  and  without  the 
least  reproach,  she  soon  after  contrived  to  steal  down  again,  with  all 
her  jewels,  to  the  same  gallant,  and  has  not  been  heard  of  since. 

"  'These  Laputians  are  not  only  philosophers  and  scientists,  but 
they  are  proficient  in  sorcery  and  magic;  and  the  legend  is  that 
Cupid  made  such  havoc  with  their  studies  that  a  celebrated  magician 
was  employed  by  the  government  to  catch  and  seal  the  mischievous 
chap  up  in  a  bottle,  and  cast  him  into  the  sea.' 

"Floating  round  ^YiXh  the  waves  for  niontlis  and  years,  the 
bottle,  at  last,  was  washed  ashore  upon  the  coast  of  Spain. 
LeSage  tells,  in  Asmodeus,  how  a  student  of  Alcalda  set  him 
free  by  breaking  the  bottle,  and  since  then  Cupid  has  given  the 
Laputian  coast  a  wide  berth;  hence,  the  disaffection  of  the 
women,  who,  everywhere  and  in  every  clime,  prefer  love  to 
science  and  philosophy." 


Divorce.  237 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

DIVORCE. 

It  was  getting  time  for  their  evening  walk,  and  after  this 
serio-comic  discerptiou  of  the  marriage  problem  had  quieted 
the  schoolmaster's  nerves  and  settled  his  dinner,  he  became  im- 
patient for  that  regular  exercise  which  had,  for  so  many  years, 
contributed  to  his  physical  health  and  promoted  the  vigor  of 
his  active  brain.  His  companion  was  always  ready  for  a  move, 
and,  as  it  were,  by  mutual  consent,  without  the  trouble  of  a  sug- 
gestion even,  they  both  abandoned  their  seats  under  the  shade 
and  quietly  strolled  down  the  road. 

The  teacher  had  been  in  a  repentant  mood  most  of  the  day. 
Whenever  he  seriously  considered  his  unwarrantable  neglect  of 
one  of  the  most  important  duties  and  privileges  of  man,  and 
found  that  time  had  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  reform,  he 
quieted  his  conscience  by  swallowing  a  small  dose  of  repentance. 
This,  in  his  estimation,  was  only  a  placebo,  but  it  was  better 
than  nothing,  for  the  wisest  physician  is  not  willing  to  quietly 
fold  his  hands  and  say,  "j^othing  more  can  be  done."  To  get 
his  thoughts  a  little  off  from  what  he  now  considered  the  great 
error  of  his  life,  he  introduced  the  subject  of  divorce,  and  said : 

"Few  social  questions  are  surrounded  with  greater  difliculty 
than  this.  In  Roman  law  marriage  was  regarded  as  a  volun- 
tary union  which  might  be  terminated  at  any  time  by  consent 
of  the  parties.  No  legal  process  was  required,  and  until  the 
time  of  Justinian  divorce  by  consent  of  both  parties  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  subject  to  any  restriction.  Divorce  by 
the  husband  against  the  wish  of  his  Avife  was  a  power  much 
more  likely  to  be  abused  than  that  of  dissolving  marriage  by 
mutual  consent ;  and  yet,  although  the  legal  right  was  recog- 
nized, it  is  said  not  to  have  been  acted  on  for  a  period  of  five 
hundred  years.  Harshness  in  the  exercise  of  the  power  was  con- 
demned by  public  opinion,  and  sometimes  punished  by  the 
authority  of  censors.  L.  Antonius,  a  senator,  was  expelled  from 
the  senate  for  a  harsh  divorce  of  a  young  wife.  The  effect  of 
the  spread  of  Christianity  was  to  reinvest  marriage  with  the 
religious  character  from  which,  in  the  later  law  of  Rome,  it 


238  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

had  completely  escaped.  At  a  still  later  period  Jusdnian  en- 
acted that  persons  dissolving  a  marriage  by  mutual  consent 
should  forfeit  all  their  property  and  be  confined  for  life  to  a 
monastery,  which  was  to  receive  a  third  of  the  forfeited  prop- 
erty, the  remaining  two-thirds  going  to  the  children  of  the  mar- 
riage. This  severity,  so  much  at  variance  with  the  Eoman 
spirit,  indicates  the  growing  power  of  the  clergy.  These  prohi- 
bitions were  repealed  in  the  next  reign.  It  is  a  remarkable 
illustration  of  the  Roman  view  of  marriage  that,  in  view  of 
what  must  have  been  the  great  social  evil  of  capricious  divorce, 
the  right  of  either  party  to  dissolve  the  marriage  was  never 
successfully  questioned.  From  the  pure  Roman  to  the  canon 
law,  the  change  is  great  indeed.  The  ceremony  becomes  sacred, 
the  tie  indissoluble.  Those  whom  God  has  joined,  let  no  man 
put  asunder,  was  the  first  text  of  the  new  law  of  marriage,  and 
against  such  a  prohibition  social  convenience  and  experience 
pleaded  in  vain.  To  this  day  there  is  a  kind  of  social  ostracism 
in  the  minds  of  the  great  majority  of  Christian  people  toward 
those  who  take  advantage  of  the  divorce  courts.  Holding  mar- 
riage to  be  a  divine  institution,  they  repudiate  the  right  of  men 
and  women  to  sever,  by  legal  process,  a  union  sealed  by  divine 
ordinance  and  made  indissoluble  by  religious  authority.  Here, 
in  my  opinion,  has  originated  the  great  cause  of  divorce. 

"That  principle  of  resistance  which  alone  makes  it  possible 
to  live  in  this  world  is  roused  into  action  by  every  restraint, 
whether  it  be  for  good  or  evil.  "Where  the  least  restraint  is, 
there  we  find  the  least  resistance.  The  principle  is  worldwide, 
and  applies  equally  to  the  physical  and  spiritual  forces  through- 
out the  whole  creation.  Tell  a  man,  a  woman  or  a  child  not  to 
do  a  certain  thing,  and  the  first  impulse  is  to  do  that  very  thing. 
If  our  first  parents'  attention  had  never  been  called  to  the  for- 
bidden fruit,  the  probability  is  it  would  have  escaped  their  no- 
tice ;  but  the  moment  they  were  told  not  to  touch  it,  and  threat- 
ened with  death  if  they  did,  and  especially  after  being  assured 
that  no  penalty  w^ould  follow,  but,  instead,  they  would  become 
wise,  human  nature  would  have  been  at  fault  had  they  not 
yielded.  The  only  regret  with  me  is  that  they  had  not  eaten 
more  for  my  benefit ! 


Divorce.  239 

"This  myth  only  ilhistrates  the  universal  principle  of  resist- 
ance, which  is  essential  to  the  preservation  of  life.  In  addi- 
tion to  the  stirring  up  of  this  principle,  the  conviction  that 
wedlock  is  indissoluble  holds  out  the  strongest  of  all  temptations 
to  the  perverse ;  they  indulge  without  restraint  in  acrimony, 
and  all  the  little  tyrannies  of  domestic  life,  when  they  know 
that  their  victim  is  without  appeal.  If  this  connection  were 
put  on  a  rational  basis,  each  would  be  assured  that  habitual 
ill-temper  would  terminate  in  separation,  and  would  check 
this  vicious  and  dangerous  propensity. 

"x\  system  could  not  have  well  been  devised  more  studiously 
hostile  to  human  happiness  than  our  present  marriage  system." 

The  traveler  had  been  quietly  listening  to  this  ascription  of 
cause  and  proposal  of  remedy  for  an  evil  which  had  defied 
every  conception  of  man  for  its  alleviation,  and  he  chuckled 
inwardly  as  he  reflected  on  that  transcendentalism  which,  in  its 
depreciation  of  experience,  loses  sight  of  the  relation  which 
facts  and  phenomena  sustain  to  principles.  It  amused  him  to 
see  with  what  fluency  a  man  could  discourse  upon  a  subject 
with  which  he  had  no  experience. 

"If  it  be  true,"  he  said,  "that  the  heart  of  man  naturally 
delights  in  liberty,  and  hates  everything  to  which  it  is  confined, 
it  is  also  true  that  the  heart  of  man  naturally  submits  to  neces- 
sity, and  soon  loses  an  inclination,  when  there  appears  an  abso- 
lute impossibility  of  gratifying  it.  How  many  frivolous  quar- 
rels and  disgusts  are  there,  which  people  of  common  prudence 
endeavor  to  forget,  when  they  lie  under  a  necessity  of  passing 
their  lives  together,  but  which  would  soon  be  inflamed  into  the 
most  deadly  hatred  were  they  pursued  to  the  utmost,  under  the 
prospect  of  an  early  separation?  We  must  consider  that  noth- 
ing is  more  dangerous  than  to  unite  two  persons  so  closely  in 
all  their  interests  and  concerns,  as  man  and  wife,  Avithout  ren- 
dering the  imion  entire  and  total.  The  least  possibility  of  a 
separate  interest  must  be  the  source  of  endless  quarrels  and  sus- 
picions. The  wife,  not  secure  of  her  establishment,  will  still 
be  driving  some  separate  end  or  project ;  and  the  husband's, 
being  accompanied  with  more  power,  may  be  still  more  danger- 
ous." 


240  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"Your  remarks,"  replied  tlie  teacher,  "would  seem  to  ignore 
the  very  essence  of  marriage,  and  expunge  from  the  compact 
the  only  halter  worthy  of  being  worn  by  man  and  wife.  If 
the  nuptial  tie  is  to  be  severed  by  every  petty  annoyance  of  life, 
then  let  it  snap  at  once;  or,  better  still,  never  enter  into  it. 
Indissoluble  marriage,  instead  of  reconciling  men  and  women 
to  the  matrimonial  yoke,  is  the  direct  means  of  causing  unsuit- 
able, incompatible,  and  unhappy  marriages,  and  causes  more 
separations,  more  bickerings,  and  more  conjugal  infelicities 
than  all  other  causes  put  together.  If  divorce  was  absolutely 
free,  at  the  will  of  either  party  and  without  legal  process,  it 
would  remove  the  cause  of  divorce  by  making  the  matrimonial 
compact  as  difficult  to  enter  into  as  it  is  now  difficult  to  get 
out  of.  Facility  of  marriage  makes  desire  for  divorce.  Man 
naturally  values  a  possession  according  to  the  difficulty  of  ob- 
taining it.  If  the  young  wife  knew  that  her  happiness  depended 
entirely  upon  the  love  of  her  husband,  she  would  be  more  so- 
licitous of  the  love-god's  wound.  She  would  nurse  it  faithfully ; 
she  would  see  that  it  never  healed;  she  would  study  his  whims 
and  caprices,  his  likes  and  his  dislikes.  She  would  be  as  polite 
to  him  as  she  is  to  her  neighbors  and  her  servants,  and  would 
make  her  home  so  pleasant  that  clubs  and  street  gatherings 
would  be  left  to  bachelors  and  widowers.  The  young  woman, 
before  her  marriage,  would  cultivate  those  graces  which  would 
insure  an  unhealable  wound  in  the  heart  of  her  suitor,  and 
instead  of  the  poutings  and  jealousies  which  excite  in  her  lover 
a  sense  of  mortification  and  regret,  she  would  endeavor  to  show 
him  that  she  is  a  prize  worth  winning.  She  would  not  criticise, 
she  would  study  him;  she  would  never  say,  in  her  heart,  after 
an  imaginary  slight  or  unthinking  remissness  on  his  part, 
'ISTever  mind!  when  I  get  that  hwt  tied  1  will  make  you  pay 
for  this.'  She  would  be  hard  to  get,  and  would  be  valued  ac- 
cordingly.    This  is  the  best  means  of  ruling  a  husband. 

"I  admit  that  it  is  possible  for  some  Avives  to  bring  their 
husbands  into  subjection  by  force,  but  ever  afterward  her 
respect  is  gone,  and  her  love  is  changed  into  pity  and  con- 
tempt. He  obeys  because  his  spirit  is  broken,  and  he  buys 
peace  at  the  price  of  manhood.     Love  is  dead  on  both  sides 


Divorce.  241 

and  the  marriage  is  turned  into  a  legalized  concubinage.  Di- 
vorce is  vastly  preferable  to  a  case  like  this. 

The  traveler,  remembering  his  own  unhappy  matrimonial  ex- 
perience, and  numbering  it  amongst  the  many  causes  of  his 
past  and  present  afflictions,  had  but  little  heart  to  contend  for 
the  divine  origin  of  the  compact.  "But,"  said  he,  ''if  divorce 
was  made  absolutely  free  at  the  will  of  either  or  both  parties,  a 
certain  number  of  men  and  women  would  make  a  traffic  of 
marriage,  and  with  them  the  institution  would  become  a  legal- 
ized prostitution." 

"To  prevent  such  an  abuse  of  privilege,"  replied  the  teacher, 
"I  would  limit  the  license  to  the  repair  of  mistake  only,  and 
after  one  honest  effort  to  mitigate  the  evil  of  a  first  blunder, 
I  would  put  a  stop  absolutely  to  such  libertinism  by  attaching 
a  penalty  sufficiently  harsh  as  to  deter  all  such  people.  For 
the  first  offense  I  would  confine  the  culprit  in  State's  Prison, 
at  hard  labor,  for  a  period  of  ten  years,  and  for  the  second  I 
would  double  the  time  and  make  it  unpardonable." 

Here  they  met  a  boy  on  horseback  who  seemed  to  be  much 
in  a  hurry,  for  he  was  galloping  along  posthaste  apparently 
unconscious  of  the  possibility  of  any  other  person  being  on 
the  road,  until  he  suddenly  came  to  a  halt  at  the  side  of  the 
schoolmaster,  who  got  a  dab  of  mud  in  the  face  from  the  sud- 
den stop  of  the  horse.  "Howdy,  Mr.  Ellet,"  said  the  boy; 
"me  gran'sur  sont  me  over  to  'no'  ef  it  ar  a  fac'  dat  de  noo 
preecher  is  er  guine  ter  preech  at  de  chap'l  nex'  rig'ler  meetin'- 
day,  an'  ef  he  guine  ter  lecture  on  de  sin  ob  igiier'nce  as  da  sa 
he  is :  me  gran'sur  wants  ter  'no'." 

This  was  a  very  ignorant  boy  who  lived  with  an  old  igno- 
ramus of  a  grandfather — his  own  parents  being  dead.  Mr. 
Eliot  had  often  tried  to  persuade  the  old  man  to  send  the 
boy  to  school,  but  he  had  contended  that  education  was  of 
no  use,  as  "book-la rnin"  had  spoilt  many  a  good  fanner  to 
make  a  poor  preacher  or  a  shiftless  schoolmaster — in  proof  of 
which  he  affirmed  that  a  three-rail  fence  would  keep  "The 
Ghost"  out  of  his  own  field  for  a  whole  year. 

"Sammie"  (the  boy's  name  was  Sam  Patch),  "tell  your 
grandfather  to  come  out  to  the  chapel  and  hear  what  can  be 
16 


242  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

said  on  the  subject  of  ignorance,  and  perhaps  he  may  be  in- 
duced to  send  you  to  school;  and  you  come  too,  for  we  ex- 
pect a  treat  that  day." 

"Thankee,"  Sammie  said,  and  with  a  quizzical  glance  at  the 
stranger  he  galloped  off.  Mr.  Eliot  waved  his  hand  at  the 
boy,  when  he  and  his  friend  turned  round  and  walked  back  to 
the  house. 


Raising  a  Familp.  243 


CHAPTER  XXYIII. 

RAISING    A    FAMILY. 

It  was  near  sunset  when  Mr.  Eliot  and  his  friend  got  back 
to  the  house,  and  both  of  them  being  prudent  in  their  habits 
and  abstemious  in  their  diet,  decided  to  forego  supper  this 
evening,  and  spend  the  remaining  hours  before  retiring  in  the 
simple  and  rational  pleasure  of  conversation. 

The  night  was  calm  and  warm,  the  sky  cloudless  and  the 
moon  bright  and  silvery.  The  solitude  of  a  bachelor's  coun- 
try home,  rendered  more  lonely  by  the  occasional  hoot  of  the 
owl  and  the  chuck-wills-widow  of  the  Carolina  goat-sucker, 
was  eminently  suited  to  philosophic  contemplations  or  the 
reveries  of  Persian  castle-building.  In  either  line,  the  school- 
master was  ''neither  lag  nor  lame,"  but  on  this  particular 
evening  he  was  eager  to  debate  a  subject  in  which  he  was  much 
interested,  but  of  which  he  had  little  experience.  It  is  true  that 
he  had  been  thrown  with  children  all  his  life,  but  his  authority 
over  them  had  been  confined  to  the  schoolroom,  and  while 
he  had  discovered  many  defects  in  the  home  training,  it  is 
doubtful  whether  his  plans  would  eliminate  the  evils  which  the 
combined  experience  of  mankind  had  failed  to  cure.  With  his 
wonted  appeal  to  judgment  and  reason,  he  opened  the  conver- 
sation by  saying:  "The  young  man  has  now  arrived  at  the 
most  important  stage  of  his  worldly  existence,  and  if  failure 
overtakes  him  here,  his  career  had  better  never  have  begun. 
But  we  will  assume  that  he  is  an  average  success,  and  discuss 
the  causes,  motives,  influences,  and  surroundings  which  con- 
tribute to  the  most  important  end  in  life. 

"That  the  family  relation  is  the  most  normal  condition  possi- 
ble for  the  human  being,  is  the  testimony  of  the  accumulated 
experience  of  all  men,  and  when  two  young  people  form  a  part- 
nership which  brings  them  so  near  to  a  oneness  as  that  of  mar- 
riage, they  have  started  out  with  the  best  possible  prospect  of 
fulfilling  the  requirements  of  nature,  and  of  bringing  happi- 
ness to  themselves.  The  family  necessitates  the  home,  and  the 
home  makes  the  State.  A  man  may  manage  to  get  along  with- 
out a  home,  but  that  Avoman  does  not  exist,  whether  married  or 


244  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

single,  whose  greatest  craving  is  not  centered  upon  a  home  of 
her  OAvn.  Homeless,  she  is  like  a  ship  without  a  rudder,  and 
the  older  she  gets  the  more  she  is  buffeted  by  the  storms  of  life. 
'Home,  sweet  home'  is  an  angel  song  in  the  ears  of  every  woman, 

"Settled  in  their  own  home,  the  young  man  and  woman  have 
entered  upon  their  real  life-work,  and  the  change  is  so  great 
that  a  new  existence  appears  to  have  been  entered  into.  The 
change  for  the  woman  is  more  radical  than  for  the  man,  and 
this  is  strictly  in  accordance  with  the  physical  and  mental  evo- 
lution of  her  organization.  From  a  maid,  she  becomes  a  matron, 
and  with  this  change  she  becomes  almost  a  different  creature. 
Her  life  is  centered  upon  new  objects,  new  aspirations,  new 
hopes.  Like  the  vine,  she  begins  to  twine  around  her  support, 
and  her  life,  for  the  nonce,  is  centered  upon  the  one  object — her 
husband.  Love,  in  all  its  lavishment,  is  her  dowry,  and  she  is 
as  happy  as  her  nature  will  admit  of.  To  please  him  is  her 
greatest  enjoyment,  and  to  help  him  is  her  highest  ambition. 

''He  returns  her  affection,  and  the  recording  angel  smiles — 
sometimes  with  a  cynical  smile — as  the  'Book  of  Life'  is  opened 
and  a  new  account  entered.  The  account  grows  as  the  family 
grows,  and  the  debit  and  credit  sides  each  have  long  columns 
to  add  up  at  the  close  of  life. 

"With  the  first  baby  a  new  factor  enters  the  domestic  house- 
hold to  make  a  more  radical  change  in  the  thoughts,  actions, 
and  aspirations  of  both  parents.  Life  has  been  transmitted, 
and  they  see  a  reproduction  of  themselves.  Pleasure  begins 
anew  in  a  current  never  before  experienced,  and  a  murky  stream 
of  trouble  flows  beside  the  enchanted  brook.  It  is  the  finest 
baby  that  ever  came  into  the  world  and  the  only  one. 

"  'A  charming,  little,  tiddy,  iddy,  bit  of  mother's  bliss ! 
A  tiny  toddles,  sweet  as  flowers  of  Spring! 
A  precious  popsy  wopsy — give  its  mammy,  den,  a  kiss ; 
A  pretty,  darling,  itsy,  witsy  t'iug !"' 

"The  language  spoken  between  mother  and  babe  is  neither 
translatable  nor  subject  to  any  rules  of  syntax,  but  is  truly 
'Conscience  viewed  as  the  internal  repository  of  the  laws  of 
right' — a  veritable  Synteresis,  in  which  philosophy  can  take  no 
part.     It  is  here  that  the  mother  gets  recompense  for  the  pains 


Raising  a  Familij.  245 

of  maternity,  and  this  dowry  she  can  no  more  divide  than  she 
can  divide  the  cost  of  obtaining  it.  It  is  her  right  and  her 
dower,  with  which  no  man  can  interfere,  and  from  which  the 
father  can  only  turn  aM^ay  with  a  smile.  It  is  the  universal 
Volapiil-,  understood  by  mothers  and  babes  alone.  The  'goo-goo,' 
the  crow,  the  smile  of  the  infant,  as  the  mother  tosses,  and 
tickles,  and  shakes,  and  'boo-boos'  into  the  eyes,  the  mouth,  and 
ears  of  her  own  precious  darling — this  unpronounceable,  un- 
translatable 'baby-talk'  is  the  joint  tenancy  of  motherhood  and 
infancy.  It  belongs  to  no  other  phase  of  life,  and  it  terminates 
as  it  began,  only  as  an  episode  in  the  evolution  of  human  ex- 
istence. 

"Yery  soon  a  different  line  of  forces  begins  to  invade  the 
home,  and  the  young  couple  are  beset  with  temptations  they 
never  dreamed  of  before ;  and  to  combat  the  evils  and  promote 
the  good  which  so  mingle  in  the  family  where  children  are  to 
be  raised,  taxes  the  moral  and  physical  powers  of  both  mother 
and  father  to  their  uttermost.  The  children  are  to  be  fed, 
clothed,  and  educated— a  task  Herculean— yet  entered  into  with- 
out a  thought  of  its  difficulties.  Each  one  seeks  the  best  means 
at  his  command,  and  ever  after  believes  his  plan  the  best.  It  is 
a  sad  comment  upon  the  spirit  of  truth  to  see  with  what  diver- 
sity of  thought,  feeling,  and  action  men  and  women  arrive  at 
the  coveted  goal.  The  old  question  of  Pilate  may  well  come  in 
here:  'What  is  truth?'  As  regards  the  rearing  of  children, 
mothers  and  fathers  are  ever  ready  to  assume  the  divine  pre- 
rogative, and  say,  'I  am  the  truth !' 

"The  poor  man,  with  ambition  to  succeed,  feels  that  truth 
lies  at  the  end  of  a  hard  day's  labor,  and  with  this  thought  his 
little  children  are  encouraged,  and  coaxed,  and  oftentimes  driven 
to  physical  exertion  which  ends  in  the  dwarfage  of  both  body 
and  soul.  This  thraldom  leaves  an  indelible  stain  upon  the 
mind,  and  men  so  reared  remember  with  horror  their  early  life, 
and  ever  afterward  look  for  truth  in  the  opposite  direction. 
The  rich  man,  with  ambition  for  his  children's  welfaxe,  too  fre- 
quently sees  truth  at  the  terminal  end  of  his  bag  of  gold,  and 
with  the  mistaken  idea  of  the  power  of  money,  lavishes  that 
with  all  its  attendant  evils.    Others  get  it  into  their  heads  that 


246  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

what  is  popularly  called  education  is  the  summnn  honum  in 
human  life,  and  sacrifice  all  their  energies  to  the  realization  of 
this  doubtful  good.  As  a  financial  measure,  time  and  money 
spent  in  the  acquisition  of  book  learning  is  the  poorest  of  all 
investments.  The  college-bred  man  has  a  poor  chance  of  em- 
ployment— not  on  account  of  competition — but  because  of  the 
small  demand  for  his  goods.  The  professional  man  is  in  de- 
mand, but  competition  makes  success  very  doubtful.  Education 
is  the  evil  star  which  lures  to  destruction  many  a  frail  craft 
sailing  on  the  foggy  waters  of  ignorance.  Like  many  other 
costly  acquisitions,  it  is  valued  most  by  those  who  have  the 
least." 

Traveler  (with  a  hmnorous  twinkle  in  his  eye). — "I  am  sur- 
prised at  you,  my  friend.  You  are  veering  away  from  your 
established  principles,  and  making  concessions  that,  carried  out, 
as  you  carry  out  all  your  conclusions,  would  envelop  your  whole 
system  of  philosophy  in  a  cloud  of  Cimmerian  darkness.  You 
either  reason  falsely  or  you  attempt  to  erect  a  solid  structure 
upon  a  bed  of  sand.  Is  it  possible  that  your  loadstar  has  de- 
veloped into  an  ignis  fatuusf  Was  Bacon  mistaken  when  he 
said :    'Knowledge  is  power' — or,  as  Festus  said  to  Paul : 

"  'Art  tliou  beside  thyself — batli  much  learning  made  thee  mad?'  " 

"Indeed,"  replied  the  teacher,  "I  am  not  mad,  but  speak 
forth  the  words  of  truth  and  soberness. 

''Knowledge  is  power,  whether  Bacon  said  so  or  not.  The 
trouble  v»'ith  me  is  the  want  of  it.  Ignorance  is  power,  and  it 
was  this  ignorance  of  the  real  value  of  book  learning  which 
caused  me  to  offer  sacrifice  at  the  altar  of  that  false  god.  I 
know  better  now,  but  the  knowledge  came  too  late  for  my  best 
'interests.  This  is  why  I  would  caution  parents  against  pushing 
their  children  too  hard  at  school. 

"  'There  is  a  way  which  seemeth  right  unto  a  man ;  but  the  end 
thereof  are  the  ways  of  death.' 

"jSTothing  more  forcibly  exhibits  the  wisdom  of  Solomon  than 
this  commonplace  mot.  After  getting  all  the  knowledge  we  can, 
the  amount  is  so  small  that  we  feel  ashamed  of  the  time  and 
toil  expended  in  the  effort. 


Raising  a  Family.  247 

"If  a  man  wants  to  know  how  little  he  knows,  let  him  write 
a  composition  on  any  subject  he  may  choose,  and  if  he  wishes  to 
know  how  much  his  neighbors  know,  let  him  ask  them  for 
information.  Knowledge  is  a  pitiless  master,  a  siren  song  that 
lures  to  destruction.  The  fruit  of  the  tree,  though  sweet  to  the 
taste,  is  indigestible,  and  leaves  a  mental  dyspepsia  which  noth- 
ing but  the  waters  of  Lethe  can  heal.  Let  us  leave  the  subject. 
I  am  heartily  sick  of  the  treadmill  that  turns  out  knowledge  in 
such  grudging  morsels,  and  holds  in  store  such  mountains  of 
ignorance." 

Traveler  (seriously). — "The  greatest  error  of  all  the  rest  is 
the  mistaking  or  misplacing  of  the  last  or  farthest  end  of  knowl- 
edge— for  men  have  entered  into  a  desire  of  learning  and  knowl- 
edge, sometimes  upon  a  natural  curiosity  and  inquisitive  appe- 
tite; sometimes  to  entertain  their  minds  with  variety  and  de- 
light; sometimes  for  ornament  and  reputation;  and  sometimes 
to  enable  them  to  victory  of  wit  and  contradiction — and  seldom 
sincerely  to  give  a  true  account  of  these  gifts  of  reason  to  the 
benefit  and  use  of  men;  as  if  there  were  sought  in  knowledge  a 
couch  whereupon  to  rest  a  searching  and  restless  spirit ;  or  a 
terrace  for  a  wandering  and  variable  mind  to  walk  up  and 
down,  with  a  fair  prospect ;  or  a  tower  of  state  for  a  proud 
mind  to  raise  itself  upon — and  not  a  rich  storehouse  for  the 
glory  of  the  Creator  and  a  relief  of  men's  estate. 

"Christ  does  not  represent  heaven  as  a  college  for  the  learned ; 
therefore,  the  rules  of  the  Celestial  Legislator  are  rendered  as 
clear  to  the  simplest  understanding  as  to  the  deepest.  And  let 
me  here,  my  friend,  invite  you  to  observe  that  He  who  knew 
most  of  our  human  hearts  and  our  immortal  destinies  did  not 
insist  on  this  intellectual  culture  as  essential  to  the  virtues  that 
form  our  well-being  here,  and  conduce  to  our  salvation  here- 
after. Had  it  been  essential,  the  All-wise  One  would  not  have 
elected  humble  fishermen  for  the  teachers  of  His  doctrine,  in- 
stead of  culling  His  disciples  from  Roman  portico  or  Athenian 
academe.  That  which  Plato  and  Zeno,  Pythagoras  and  Socrates, 
could  not  do,  was  done  by  men  whose  ignorance  would  have  been 
a  byword  in  the  schools  of  the  Greek.  The  gods  of  the  vulgar 
were   dethroned ;   the  face  of  the   world  was  changed !     This 


248  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

thought  may  make  us  allow,  indeed,  that  there  are  agencies 
more  poAverful  than  mere  knowledge,  and  ask,  after  all,  Avhat  is 
the  mission  which  knoAvledge  should  achieve  ? 

"The  Sacred  Book  tells  us  even  that ;  for  after  establishing 
the  truth  that,  for  the  multitude,  knowledge  is  not  essential  to 
happiness  and  good,  it  accords  still  to  knowledge  its  sublime 
part  in  the  revelation  prepared  and  announced.  When  an 
instrument  of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence  was  required  for 
a  purpose  divine,  when  the  Gospel,  recorded  by  the  simple,  was 
to  be  explained  by  the  acute,  enforced  by  the  energetic,  carried 
home  to  the  doubts  of  the  Gentile,  the  Supreme  Will  joined  to 
the  Zeal  of  the  earlier  apostles  the  learning  and  genius  of  St. 
Paul — not  holier  than  the  others — calling  himself  the  least,  yet 
laboring  more  abundantly  than  them  all — making  himself  all 
things  unto  all  men,  so  that  some  might  be  saved.  The  ignorant 
may  be  saved  no  less  surely  than  the  wise ;  but  here  comes  the 
wise  man  who  helps  to  save !  And  how  the  fullness  and  anima- 
tion of  this  grand  presence,  of  this  indomitable  Energy,  seems 
to  vivify  the  toil,  and  to  speed  the  work ! 

"  'In  journeyings  often,  in  perils  of  waters,  in  perils  of  robbers, 
in  perils  of  mine  own  countrymen,  in  perils  by  the  heathen,  iu  perils 
in  the  city,  in  perils  in  the  wilclemess.  in  perils  in  the  sea,  iu  i^erils 
among  false  brethren.' 

"Behold,  my  friend !  does  not  Heaven  here  seem  to  reveal  the 
true  type  of  Knowledge — a  sleepless  activity,  a  pervading 
agency,  a  dauntless  heroism,  an  all-supporting  faith ! — a  power, 
a  power  indeed — a  power  apart  from  the  aggrandizement  of 
self — a  power  that  brings  to  him  who  owns  and  transmits  it  but 
'weariness  and  painfulness;  in  watchings  often,  in  cold  and 
nakedness' — but  a  power  distinct  from  the  mere  circumstance  of 
the  man,  rushing  from  him  as  rays  from  the  sun ;  borne  through 
the  air  and  clothing  it  with  light,  piercing  under  earth,  and 
calling  forth  the  harvest !  Worship  not  knowledge,  worship  not 
the  sun,  O  my  friend!  Let  the  sun  but  proclaim  the  Creator; 
let  the  knowledge  but  illumine  the  worship  !" 

The  pious  itinerant,  overcome  by  his  own  earnestness,  paused ; 
his  head  drooped  on  the  shoulder  of  his  friend,  and  both  of  them 
were  long  silent.     The  habitual  turn  of  a  philosophic  mind  at 


Raising  a  Family.  249 

length  quelled  the  emotional  storm  in  the  schoolmaster's  breast, 
and  he  gave  his  thoughts  once  more  to  the  child  and  its  man- 
agement. 

"If,"  said  he,  with  the  calmness  of  a  philosopher,  "if  parents 
could  once  recognize  the  fact  that  children  are  children,  and 
not  gro^vn  people — that  their  minds  are  as  immature  as  their 
bodies,  and  that  their  thoughts  are  the  product  of  a  growing 
brain,  much  unnecessary  solicitude  would  be  saved  the  parent, 
and  much  happiness  left  the  child  of  which  it  is  now  deprived. 
One  of  the  greatest  mistakes  a  parent  ever  makes  is  in  trying 
to  enforce  obedience  where  obedience  is  impossible.  They  try 
to  make  their  children  inind — a  hoj^eless  and  impossible  task! 
A  child  cannot  mind,  and  if  it  could,  the  very  act  of  minding 
would  destroy  the  child.  If  it  were  possible  for  every  command 
and  every  threat  made  by  the  average  mother  of  a  family  of 
children  during  one  day  to  be  recorded  as  spoken,  she  would 
deny  that  she  ever  spoke  such  words,  and  be  indignant  at  such 
an  accusation. 

"  'Mind  your  books'  was  an  old-time  lika^se  of  the  country 
schoolmaster,  bawled  out  every  few  minutes  during  school  hours. 
The  school-children  minded  their  books  about  like  the  little 
tots  mind  their  mothers. 

"!N"othing  can  more  forcibly  illustrate  the  fiendishness  of  mis- 
directed parental  authority  than  an  incident  which  came  un- 
der my  observation  a  few  years  ago.  Being  in  a  village  one 
Sunday  afternoon,  I  had  a  mind  to  step  over  to  a  friend's  house, 
thinking  to  spend  an  hour  in  pleasant  conversation.  The  gen- 
tleman was  sitting  on  his  porch  superintending  the  play  of  his 
own  children  with  half  a  dozen  of  their  little  neighbors.  So 
intent  was  he  in  directing  their  pleasures  that  little  attention 
was  given  to  my  presence.  I  sat  twenty  minutes  looking  on, 
when  I  got  up  and  deliberately  told  a  falsehood  to  get  away 
without  seeming  rude.  During  the  twenty  minutes  I  watched 
the  children  closely,  and  if  they  attempted  to  do  a  single  thing 
which  they  ought  not  to  do,  I  failed  to  see  it.  Not  less  than 
two  commands  and  four  objections  were  issued  by  this  good 
parent  every  minute  while  I  remained.  They  mustn't  do  this 
and  they  mustn't  do  that.     They  must  play  as  he  directed.     His 


250  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

intentions  were  good,  but  nothing  ever  more  forcibly  impressed 
me  with  the  truth  of  the  old  Portuguese  proverb,  that  'Hell  is 
paved  with  good  intentions.'  The  children  were  literally  in  tor- 
ment. They  tried  to  slip  off  into  the  back-yard,  but  he  called 
them  back.  Every  suggestion  that  one  of  them  made  was  ob- 
jected to.  If  they  played  'tag,'  they  must  play  it  with  the 
thought  of  a  gray-beard.  If  they  attempted  'hop-scotch,'  they 
must  hop  on  the  left  foot ;  if  'hide  the  switch,'  they  must  hide 
it  in  a  particular  manner.  After  a  while  the  largest  girl  began 
to  sulk  and  vowed  she  would  play  no  longer.  It  was  an  object- 
lesson  worthy  of  the  huzza  of  Mephistopheles. 

"On  another  occasion  I  spent  a  week  at  the  house  of  a  friend 
whose  wife  was  an  invalid.  The  oldest  daughter  was  house- 
keeper, and  the  youngest  child  a  little  girl  of  three  years.  One 
day  at  the  table  the  child  asked  to  have  two  spoons.  Her  sister 
objected,  and  the  little  girl  was  carried  from  the  table  in  a  tan- 
trum. The  father  said  nothing.  Three  times  a  day  for  four 
days  this  scene  was  reenacted.  On  the  fourth  day,  the  father 
quietly  asked  what  objection  there  was  to  the  child's  having 
two  spoons.  Then  the  older  sister  flared  up  and  tossed  a  second 
spoon  to  the  child.  The  father  told  her  to  pick  the  spoon  up 
and  hand  it  to  her,  and  said:  'I  have  just  been  waiting  to  see 
if  you  would  ever  see  the  folly  of  your  ways,  but  it  seems  that 
common  sense  has  no  place  in  your  mind.'  It  was  a  severe  re- 
buke, but  perhaps  a  necessary  one.  He  then  turned  to  the  child 
and  asked  her  in  a  kindly  and  coaxing  manner  if  she  didn't 
want  two  cups.  She  said  yes,  and  when  she  had  gotten  two  of 
every  piece  on  the  table,  she  was  happy;  and  the  beauty  of  it 
all  was,  she  never  asked  for  two  spoons,  or  two  cups,  or  two  of 
anything  else  again.  She  was  satisfied.  Now,  which  was  the 
better  plan  ?  Is  there  any  harm  in  a  little  child's  having  two 
spoons  ? 

"This  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  contradictions,  austerities,  and 
tyrannies  exercised  by  grown  people  over  the  young,  and  the 
worst  of  it  all  is,  it  often  extends  to  corporal  punishment  of 
the  most  brutal  kind.  And  when  I  think  of  the  whip  as  a  means 
of  making  children  mind,  language  fails  me.  Why  is  it  that 
Christian  people  set  more  store  by  the  savagery  of  Solomon 


Raising  a  Familg.  251 

than  tlie  benevolence  of  Jesus?  Did  the  Savior  ever  tell  you 
to  whip  a  child?  Those  who  resort  to  the  whip  acknowledge 
thereby  that  their  resources  are  piteously  limited.  And,  be- 
sides, no  parent  ever  whipped  a  child  for  the  child's  good  alone. 
This  is  a  bold  assertion,  but  a  very  true  one.  There  is  always 
an  element  of  spleen,  of  revenge,  of  retaliation  in  the  act.  A 
father  after  beating  his  son  into  silence  commenced  to  blubber 
over  his  barbarity,  and  asked  the  boy  if  he  knew  why  he 
whipped  him,  as  if  he  expected  him  to  cower  and  lick  the  hand 
that  smote  him.  The  boy,  ignoring  the  driveling  sentiment  of 
his  misguided  parent,  quietly  looked  him  in  the  eye,  and  said: 
'Because  you  are  the  biggest.'  The  boy  gave  the  true  reason, 
and  every  parent  knows  it  if  he  will  but  think. 

"  'Man's  inhumanity  to  man 

Makes  countless  thousands  mourn' ; 

and  the  brutality  of  growTi  people  to  children  makes  the  devils 
in  hell  rejoice." 

The  clock  struck  ten,   and  the   schoolmaster   and  his   guest 
retired. 


252  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

MANAGING  A  FAMILY. 

On  tlieir  moruing  Avalk  next  day  tlie  schoolmaster,  not  satis- 
fied to  drop  the  subject  at  what  was  said  the  evening  before, 
commenced  by  quoting  the  familiar  saying: 

"  'Little  childreu  are  little  trouble  and  big  children  are  big  trouble.' 

''Hardly  a  parent,"  he  continued,  "after  their  childi-en  be- 
gin to  grow  up  but  will  subscribe  to  the  truth  of  this  well- 
known  saying,  yet  there  are  many  troubles  connected  with  in- 
fancy and  childhood  that  most  fathers  and  every  mother  will 
call  'big,' — yea,  very  big!  Sickness  is  one  of  them.  The 
mother  who  has  the  misfortune  to  lose  her  first  baby  has  rea- 
son, as  Job  had,  to  anathematize  the  day  of  her  birth  and  to 
regret  the  hour  in  which  she  became  a  mother. 

"Rasselas  upbraided  the  Sage  in  Johnson's  tale  of  the  Prince  of 
Abyssinia  for  giving  way  to  grief  after  discoursing  so  learnedly 
and  dispassionately  on  the  'conquest  of  passion' ;  but  the  phi- 
losopher silenced  him  in  his  answer:  'Sir,'  said  he,  'you  are 
come  at  a  time  when  all  human  friendship  is  useless;  what  I 
suffer  cannot  be  remedied,  what  I  have  lost  cannot  be  sup- 
plied. My  daughter,  my  only  daughter,  from  whose  tenderness  I 
expected  all  the  comforts  of  my  age,  died  last  night  of  a  fever.' 

"  'Every  one  can  master  a  grief  but  he  that  has  it' ;  but  that 
man  knows  little  of  the  human  heart  who  will  either  chide  or 
attempt  to  console  a  parent  in  his  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  a  child. 
Philosophy  closes  her  eyes  when  the  iron  enters  into  the  soul. 

"That  mother  is  blest,  and  that  child  is  thrice  blest,  whose 
lot  falls  to  the  care  of  a  wise  and  conscientious  physician. 
Half  the  trouble  in  the  daily  routine  of  human  ailments  comes 
from  fright,  and  the  wise  mother  selects  her  medical  adviser — 
not  because  he  parts  his  hair  in  the  middle  and  wears  patent- 
leather  shoes,  nor  because  he  pays  more  attention  to  the  well 
baby  than  he  does  to  the  sick  one;  but  for  his  knowledge,  his 
honesty,  and  his  ability  to  distinguish  between  a  serious  and  a 
trivial  ailment.  Many  doctors  overrate  small  discomforts,  and 
add  to  the  uneasiness  of  parents  for  the  sole  purpose  of  magni- 
fying their  own   ability.      Others,   through   ignorance,   fail   to 


Managing  a  Familg.  253 

recognize  serious  sickness  and  soothe  parents  into  a  false  se- 
curity where  real  danger  exists.  JSTothing  can  be  more  fatal 
to  the  happiness  of  a  household  than  an  incompetent  or  dis- 
honest physician. 

"jSText  in  order  and  importance  is  the  schooling  period ; 
and  here  I  would  enter  my  protest  against  the  modern  meth- 
ods of  education.  Hand  in  hand  with  the  humhuggery  of 
medicine  comes  the  quackery  of  the  schools.  Teachers  and 
parents  are  both  responsible  for  this  waste  of  energy  and  in- 
hibition of  a  sound  mental  development.  Children  are  over- 
loaded with  books,  and  encouraged  to  study,  or  rather  to  cram 
for  an  exhibition  or  prize,  merely  to  tickle  the  fancy  of  a 
vain  parent  or  beef-witted  teacher. 

"Up-to-date  teaching  is  an  effort  to  put  more  into  the  pupil's 
head  than  it  will  hold,  and  the  consequence  is,  it  runs  over  with 
froth.  Another  mistake  is  in  the  endeavor  to  combine  pleasure 
with  study.  The  senses  are  appealed  to  more  than  the  thinking 
powers,  and  object-lessons  speak  to  the  eye  with  disastrous 
results.  Picture-books,  slates  and  blackboards  should  be  dis- 
carded from  the  primary  schools.  When  the  eye  is  depended 
upon,  the  mind  is  left  in  darkness.  Object-lessons  are  instruct- 
ive only  to  the  mature  mind.  I  have  ever  found  it  a  vain 
task  to  try  to  make  a  child's  learning  its  amusement;  nor  do 
I  see  what  good  end  it  would  answer  were  it  actually  attained. 
I  knew  a  little  fellow  who  had  been  taught  to  read  before  he 
knew  the  alphabet.  He  had  been  so  cheated  by  the  figures  and 
pictures  marked  on  the  blackboard  by  his  up-to-date  teacher 
that,  actually,  he  thought  words  had  shapes.  He  believed 
that  a  verb  looked  like  a  jack-rabbit. 

"Another  silly  thing  is  trying  to  teach  a  child  its  own 
language  by  means  of  a  book  called  gTammar.  Just  as  well  try 
to  teach  him  how  to  grow !  There  never  was  a  grammar  of  any 
language  prior  to  the  days  of  Julius  Csesar,  and  yet  his  writ- 
ings are  classical,  and  the  orations  of  Cicero  have  never  been 
surpassed  for  beauty  of  diction. 

"The  first  essential  in  the  education  of  a  child  is  to  force 
into  his  mind  a  few  arbitrary  substrata,  without  which  book 
learning  would  be  impossible — such  as  the  alphabet,  the  numer- 
als, how  to  read  simple  sentences,  and  how  to  count.     Imme- 


254  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

diately  after  this,  set  him  to  using  his  thinking  po^wers.  Mem- 
ory will  take  care  of  itself.  Mental  arithmetic  and  a  primary 
speller  are  about  all  the  books  a  child  needs  for  the  first  six 
months  of  its  school  life.  If  object-lessons  were  essential  to  in- 
struct the  mind,  how  in  the  world  would  the  blind  ever  be  taught  ? 

''I  am  in  favor  of  free  and  compulsory  education.  The 
Government  ought  to  have  charge  of  the  schools,  and  it  should 
establish  one  grade  of  schools  where  wages  are  paid  to  the 
pupils.  This  should  be  a  school  of  Labor,  and  every  man  and 
woman  born  in  the  United  States,  and  every  one  immigi'ating 
into  this  country,  before  he  or  she  is  twenty-five  years  old, 
should  be  compelled  to  attend  this  school  two  years.  Common 
laborer's  wages  should  be  paid  to  these  pupils,  and  they  should 
be  deprived  of  every  other  means  of  support  during  this  school 
attendance.  The  Government  of  this  educational  system  should 
be  strictly  military,  and  the  regulations  rigidly  carried  out. 
Diplomas  should  be  awarded  its  graduates,  and  honors  given 
according  to  conduct.  This  would  be  a  leveler  indeed,  but  it 
would  bring  about  more  brotherly  love  than  all  the  churches. 
It  would  introduce  the  poor  and  the  rich  to  one  another,  and  it 
would  inspire  confidence  between  capital  and  labor.  It  would 
enable  the  rich  man  to  know  how  the  poor  man  feels,  and  it 
would  school  the  poor  man  in  kindly  feelings  toward  the  rich. 
But  enough — we  must  stick  to  the  family,  and  its  management. 

"Every  family,  like  the  Government,  should  have  a  head. 
This  sometimes  devolves  upon  the  father,  sometimes  o\\  the 
mother.  Better  on  both,  as  two  heads  are  better  than  one — 
especially  in  the  family.  But  where  one  is  incapable,  the  other 
should  rule.  Somebody's  word  should  be  law,  and  when  spoken 
should  be  obeyed.  Love,  sitting  at  the  feet  of  justice,  is  an 
ideal  family  picture.  Little  children  have  a  high  sense  of  jus- 
tice, and  unless  their  minds  become  per\'erted  through  favor- 
itism, they  willingly  abide  by  her  decisions.  The  sensible 
mother  or  father  deals  impartially  with  all. 

"After  a  while  the  little  girl  becomes  a  young  lady,  and  this 
is  the  period  in  which  the  sensible  mother  has  the  greatest  in- 
fluence for  good.  If  too  anxious  for  her  daughter  to  have  at- 
tention from  young  men,  she  may  live  to  regret  an  unsuitable 
marriage,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  if  she  thinks  no  man  is  good 


Managing  a  Famili;.  255 

enough  for  lier  girls,  she  may  have  a  lot  of  old  maids  for  her 
companions.  A  middle  course  is  selected  by  the  sensible  mother, 
and  if  her  girls  be  worthy,  she  will  have  no  trouble  in  marry- 
ing them  off  to  advantage.  Worthy  young  men  are  ever  on 
the  outlook  for  suitable  wives,  and  they  generally  have  an  in- 
stinctive preference  for  that  which  is  meritorious.  A  desire 
to  elevate  one's  family  is  a  laudable  ambition,  but  to  marry  out 
of  one's  class  is  a  mistake.  Caste  exists  all  over  the  world — 
in  one  shape  in  India,  and  another  in  Europe  and  America. 
If  I  were  a  nigger,  I  would  associate  with  niggers.  I  would 
never  try  to  straighten  my  hair,  nor  to  sit  on  the  same  seat 
with  a  white  man.  ISTatural  barriers  can  never  be  wholly 
overcome,  and  the  barriers  of  caste  are  more  intractable  than 
mountains  and  rivers." 

Mr.  Eliot  and  his  friend  had  walked  a  little  further  this 
morning  than  usual,  and  just  as  they  were  about  to  retrace 
their  steps  an  old  white-haired  gentleman  came  along  in  his 
buggy  on  his  way  to  his  lodge  meeting.  This  man  was  about 
the  age  of  the  schoolmaster  and  his  particular  friend,  although 
in  thought,  feeling,  and  aspirations  they  differed  as  widely 
as  the  ]N"orth  from  the  South.  One  was  a  philosopher,  the 
other  a  man  of  action;  one  a  thinker,  the  other  a  doer;  one 
lived  in  the  abstract,  the  other  in  the  concrete.  For  many 
years  this  old  gentleman's  mind  had  been  imbued  with  the  im- 
portance of  three  obligations,  or,  rather,  a  conscientious  fealty 
to  the  performance  of  a  trio  of  solemn  duties.  He  was  a 
strong  Methodist,  a  bright  Mason,  and  a  true  Patriot.  He 
revered  the  Church,  loved  his  lodge,  and  gloried  in  the  Fourth 
of  July.  He  never  failed  to  celebrate  the  day  of  American 
independence,  never  missed  a  lodge  meeting,  and  always  went 
to  church.  He  died  promptly  on  the  fourth  of  July,  after 
predicting  his  death  three  months  in  advance.* 


♦This  is  a  fact;  and  those  who  deny  premonitions  must  account  for  it  as  best 
they  may.  Tiie  author  of  this  book  knew  the  old  man  well.  He  was  about  eighty 
years  of  age  when  he  died,  and  in  April  preceding  his  deatii  he  began  to  send  word 
to  his  neighbors  to  come  to  .see  him,  as  he  would  die  on  the  fourth  of  July.  They 
looked  upon  his  prediction  as  one  of  the  childish  whims  of  old  age,  but  as  he  per- 
sisted in  sending  them  word  to  come,  merely  to  gratify  hira  they  all  visited  him 
before  the  fourth.  He  talked  about  his  death  on  the  day  he  loved,  as  if  he  knew 
it  and  desired  it,  and  when  they  tried  to  talk  him  out  of  it,  he  would  say,  'Time 
will  show.'  On  the  fourth  he  got  up  as  usual,  dressed,  and  ate  his  breakfast.  He 
told  those  about  him  not  to  go  away,  as  they  would  be  needed  before  night.  After 
dinner  he  went  to  bed  and  died  without  a  groan. 


256  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

He  drew  rein  as  lie  neared  the  two  men,  and  bade  tlieni  a 
hearty  good  morning.  The  schoohnaster  introduced  his  friend, 
and  the  old  gentleman  began,  at  once,  to  inquire  about  the 
rumored  meeting  that  was  soon  to  take  place  at  the  chapel. 
He  was  very  anxious  to  know  what  denomination  the  stranger 
was  attached  to,  and  especially  if  he  had  any  Methodist  pro- 
clivities. His  ideas  all  ran  in  the  rut  of  denominational  Chris- 
tianity, and  it  was  but  of  little  consequence  to  him  whether  a 
preacher  was  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Christ,  so  long  as  he  fol- 
lowed the  example  of  Wesley.  He  was  as  uncompromising  in 
religion  as  he  was  in  politics,  and  he  would  no  more  put  his  foot 
inside  a  Catholic  church  than  he  would  seat  himself  at  a  faro- 
table,  or  vote  the  Republican  ticket.  He  talked  rapidly  and  al- 
most incoherently,  for  he  had  been  infected  with  the  prevailing 
excitement  concerning  the  man  Avho  had  been  sent  on  a  special 
mission  to  convert  the  schoolmaster. 

Knowing  Mr.  Eliot  too  Avell  to  ask  him  a  direct  question,  he 
filially  addressed  the  stranger,  and  asked  him  point-blank  if 
he  intended  to  preach  at  the  chapel  next  Sunday.  The  traveler 
was  taken  rather  aback  at  this  sudden  demand,  for  he,  like  his 
host,  was  a  little  shy  of  the  critical  and  the  curious ;  but  his 
long  experience  had  taught  him  that  St.  Paul  tried  to  im- 
press the  Corinthians  with  a  secular,  as  Avell  as  a  religious 
truth,  when  he  said: 

"Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men.  and  of  angels,  and 
have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  sounding  brass  or  a  tiuliling  cym- 
bal." 

He  readily  perceived  the  illiberal  churchism  of  this  old  gen- 
tleman, but  his  kindly  nature  returned  a  soft,  if  not  a  satis- 
factory answer. 

"I  would  not  have  you  ignorant,  so.  as  much  as  in  me  is.  I  am 
ready  to  preach  the  gospel  to  you,  for  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the 
gospel  of  Christ;  for  therein  is  the  righteousness  of  God  revealed 
from  faith  to  faith:  as  it  is  written.  'The  just  shall  live  by  faith.' 

I^ow,  this  old  man  had  entirely  too  much  faith.  He  be- 
lieved that  the  Methodist  church  was  a  direct  inspiration  of 
the  Almighty;  he  believed  the  Masonic  order  to  be  a   divine 


Managing  a  Familp.  257 

institution,  and  lie  believed  the  Fourth  of  Jiily,  as  an  ex- 
pression of  American  Independence,  was  appointed  by  God 
himself. 

As  he  looked  at  the  stranger  and  considered  his  answer,  a 
sort  of  awe  crept  through  his  mind,  and  without  further  dis- 
cussion, he  bade  them  a  kindly  farewell  and  drove  on  to  his 
lodge. 

The  schoolmaster  and  his  friend  Avalked  slowly  back  to  the 
house,  talking  more  on  religious  than  secular  matters.  They 
discussed  the  neighborhood  report,  and  decided  that  inasmuch 
as  the  whole  community  seemed  to  expect  a  sermon  from  the 
stranger,  it  would  be  as  well  for  him  to  make  a  little  talk,  if  the 
pastor  of  the  church  should  invite  him  to  the  pulpit. 

On  reaching  the  house,  they  found  a  messenger  with  a  note. 
Here  it  is : 

My  Dear  Old  Friend  : — What  with  the  exciting  rumors  abroad  in 
this  end  of  the  circuit  and  the  intense  interest  now  manifested  in 
your  friend,  whose  acquaintance  I  am  pi'oud  to  acknowledge,  I  feel 
constrained  to  vary  my  rule  by  inviting  him,  through  you,  to  be 
present  and  assist  me  at  the  next  regular  meeting  at  the  chapel. 
I  shall  be  more  than  glad  to  give  him  the  entire  hour  if  he  will  fill  it. 
Hoping  that  he  will  accept  and  praying  that  the  good  Lord  will  bless 
us  all,  I  am,  fraternally  and  sincerely. 

Your  friend,  C.  F.  D. 

Answer. 

Handing  the  note  to  his  friend,  the  schoolmaster  said:  "The 
rumor  has  reached  the  parson,  and  here  is  an  invitation  for 
you." 

A  faint  imitation  of  a  smile  passed  over  the  stranger's  coun- 
tenance as  he  read  the  note,  and  handing  it  back  to  the  teacher, 
he  said :  "  'I  am  ready  at  all  times  to  give  an  answer  to  every 
man  that  asketli  me  a  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  in  me'  " ; 
then,  moving  to  his  desk,  the  schoolmaster  wrote  this  brief 
note  to  the  minister : 

My  Dear  Doctor  : — Note  received  and  our  friend  feels  the  compli- 
ment. He  desii'es  me  to  say  he  will  aid  you  in  any  way  he  can  with 
the  services.  Your  friend.  Ghost  Eliot. 


17 


258  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

CHAPTER  XXX. 


After  dismissing  the  messenger,  Mr.  Eliot  turned  to  his 
guest,  and  said :  "The  last  subject  for  discussion  in  the  life 
of  a  human  being  is  the  subject  of  old  age,  and  where  I  fail 
to  realize  the  full  significance  of  that  period  I  shall  look  to  you 
for  help,  as  to  one  whose  experience  is  more  valuable  than  all 
the  theories  of  the  greatest  philosophers." 

There  was  as  much  flattery  and  as  much  deception  in  this 
observation  as  the  old  teacher  ever  was  guilty  of,  for  while  he 
found  much  to  puzzle  him  in  the  character  of  his  guest,  he 
could  not  get  the  consent  of  his  mind  that  there  was  not  still 
a  crotchet  hanging  like  a  veil  over  the  mind  of  his  friend,  when- 
ever he  spoke  of  his  age  and  his  experience.  However,  he  could 
make  but  little  mistake  in  such  a  compliment,  paid  to  a  man 
of  so  much  learning  and  varied  accomplishments  as  he  had 
found  in  the  mysterious  stranger. 

''Your  age  and  your  experience,"  he  continued,  "must  have 
given  you  an  insight  into  the  nature  of  man  denied  to  the  aver- 
age octogenarian." 

"As  to  that,"  replied  the  traveler,  "I  have  little  advantage 
over  you,  for  whenever  I  reach  the  age  of  one  hundred,  I  am 
always  turned  back  and  again  become  a  man  in  his  prime. 
Even  as  a  centenarian,  I  would  know  less  of  old  age  than  the 
average  man  of  seventy,  for  my  faculties  never  deteriorate,  and 
my  capacity  for  suffering  is  never  blunted.  I  only  get  a  little 
stiff  in  the  legs,  and  the  pains  of  senility  acquire  a  little  sharper 
twinge.  As  to  the  mental  state  of  an  old  man,  I  know  nothing 
of  it.  Swift  endeavored  to  portray  the  miseries  of  immortality 
in  his  description  of  the  struldhrugs  of  Luggnagg:  and,  perhaps, 
his  imagination  wove  a  true  picture  of  the  wretchedness  of  a 
never-ending  life.  Even  with  my  faculties  unimpaired,  the 
greatest  desire  of  my  life  is  death,  and  I  shall  hail  with  joy  the 
second  coming  of  Christ. 

"The  man  who  craves  immortality  here,  must  have  a  poor 
conception  of  the  eternal  life  hereafter.  Though  my  case  be 
different  from  that  of  others,  I  can't  understand  why  any  man 


Old  Age.  259 

should  desire  a  prolongation  of  his  earthly  existence  after  age 
has  enfeebled  his  body  and  benumbed  his  mind.  At  best,  after 
the  novelty  of  youth  has  passed,  and  the  trials  of  manhood 
have  been  experienced,  we  can  only  look  to  the  present  for 
the  consolations  of  the  passing  hour.  Looking  back,  Ave  behold 
mistakes  and  regrets;  looking  forward,  we  see  the  hideous 
shapes  of  decay — the  blurred  images  of  driveling  imbecility. 
Nothing  this  side  the  grave  is  of  much  importance  to  the  aged 
man.  Into  the  beyond  we  must  look  and  be  consoled  by  the 
promise : 

"  -Tlieu  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was,  and  the  spirit 
shall  return  nuto  God  who  gave  it.' 

"Oh!  for  the  privilege  of  being  with  God — to  be  heirs  and 
joint  heirs  with  the  Son  of  man!  There,  unburdened  with 
the  vanities  of  the  flesh,  rid  of  the  passions  which  beset  men  in 
this  life,  purified  and  exalted  above  the  temptations  of  earth, 
with  our  minds  serene  and  calm,  growing  in  knowledge  and  ex- 
panding in  love,  we  shall  view  this  earthly  shell  as  the  butter- 
fly views  the  moth.  With  what  serenity  we  shall  look  down 
upon  earth,  knowing  that  a  few  fleeting  years  will  deliver 
our  friends  from  that  chrysalis  state  in  which  the  germ  of  a 
higher  life  is  waxing  into  the  perfect  man ! 

"We  pity  ourselves  and  our  fellows  here,  because  of  our  im- 
perfections, our  ignorance,  and  our  proneness  to  error  and  to 
pain.  There,  we  look  upon  this  life  as  a  probationary  state, 
fitting  us  for  the  higher  life,  eternal  with  the  Author  of  our 
being.  This  is  our  hope,  based  upon  the  promise  of  Him 
who  came  to  redeem  us.  Your  material  philosophy  dares  not  to 
contradict  the  promise,  but  rather  abets  it;  for,  if  the  civic 
Ego  be  an  emanation  from  God,  as  your  theory  of  the  functional 
activity  of  brain-substance  would  teach,  it  must  go  back  to  God 
when  released  from  its  earthly  bonds,  or  else  wander  forever 
in  limitless  space — a  supposition  at  variance  with  the  teachings 
of  science.  Without  this  hope  old  age  would,  indeed,  be  a  mon- 
strous travesty  upon  our  earthly  existence. 

"The  civic  Ego  being  an  uncompounded  essence,  it  is  neither 
subject  to  disintegration  nor  change,  therefore  it  must  continue 
to  exist  as  a  personality  for  all  time.     The  aged  man,  satisfied 


260  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

with  tlie  sensual  pleasures  of  earth,  must  turn  either  to  this 
hope  or  gaze  with  sightless  eyeballs  into  a  blank  and  starless 
future.  The  hope,  even  if  a  delusion,  must  be  Avorth  its  nur- 
ture. But  the  hope  is  based  upon  reason  as  well  as  the  promise, 
for  science  will  not  admit  of  destruction,  and  as  change  can 
take  place  only  with  material  combinations,  the  true  personal- 
ity of  man  is  one  and  the  same  after  leaving  the  flesh." 

"I  understand  fully,"  replied  the  teacher,  "the  significance 
of  the  Christian's  idea  of  a  future  state,  but  that  being  purely  a 
theoretical  conception,  and  out  of  the  pale  of  earthly  existence, 
I  would  confine  our  inquiry  to  the  state  of  man  prior  to  the 
shuffling  off  of  this  mortal  coil,  and  when  he  has  arrived  at 
that  stage  of  existence  where  the  bodily  organs  begin  to  show 
signs  of  deterioration,  and  the  mental  powers  lapse  from 
strength  and  activity  to  a  state  of  apathy  and  indifference. 
Deprived  of  the  stimulus  of  passion,  uninfluenced  by  the  hope 
of  accomplishing  some  end,  debarred  from  the  activities  of  life 
by  increasing  bodily  infirmities,  the  old  man's  ideas  run  in  a 
groove  ill-suited  to  the  sphere  of  action  by  which  he  is  sur- 
rounded, and  more  often  he  becomes  morose,  ill-tempered,  and 
pessimistic.  To  guard  against  such  a  state  when  the  pleasura- 
ble resources  of  life  are  diminishing  one  by  one,  the  habit  of 
philosophical  thought  should  be  cultivated  in  the  prime  of  life, 
and  the  doctrine  of  inexorable  necessity  accepted  as  the  logical 
outcome  of  that  law  of  cause  and  effect  which  alone  exists  with- 
out exception. 

''To  contemplate  the  spirit  of  the  restless  old  man  who  is  dis- 
satisfied with  his  past  life,  who  is  mthout  resources  for  the 
present,  and  who  has  no  hope  for  the  future,  is  one  of  the  sad- 
dest of  the  dark  pictures  of  human  life.  Darker  still  is  the  pic- 
ture of  the  wretch  who,  through  improvidence,  has  brought 
himself  to  dependence  upon  others  for  the  necessities  of  life. 
He  is  at  war  with  the  world  and  he  attributes  his  own  unhappy 
lot  to  the  dereliction  of  others.  Nothing  suits  him  and  he  has 
the  same  feeling  for  friend  and  foe.  Like  the  old  lion  who  has 
lost  his  teeth  and  worn  his  claws,  he  lies  in  the  sunshine  of 
others  and  snarls  and  snaps  at  every  passer-by. 

"It  is  pleasant  to  turn  from  this  picture  of  a  misspent  life  to 
the  happy  old  grandfather  surrounded  by  a   lot   of  prattling 


Old  Age.  261 

tots,  ever  ready  to  tell  them  a  story  or  have  them  search  his 
pockets  for  nuts  and  sweets.  The  resources  of  the  aged  man 
are  limited  to  his  mental  heritage  and  to  the  manner  in  which 
he  has  cultivated  his  talent.  If  allowed  to  go  to  waste,  the  bet- 
ter part  of  his  earthly  career  is  clouded  with  vexations  to  him- 
self and  discomfort  to  his  friends.  Here,  more  than  elsewhere, 
may  be  seen  the  utility  and  beauty  of  mental  culture.  Proper 
direction  of  thought  by  the  study  of  science  and  literature,  by 
reflecting  on  the  wisdom  of  the  sages  who  have  preceded  us,  by 
looking  into  the  causes  which  govern  the  phenomena  of  exist- 
ence, and  by  yielding  equo  animo  to  the  inevitable,  sets  the  aged 
man  upon  a  pedestal  unattainable  by  those  whose  only  object  in 
life  has  been  the  gratification  of  the  flesh.  Education  pays  its 
handsomest  dividends  in  the  decline  of  life,  and  nothing  is  more 
beautiful  to  behold  than  the  waning  years  of  the  aged  man  or 
woman,  with  a  well-stored  mind,  whose  eyesight,  hearing,  and 
mental  faculties  remain  after  the  purely  animal  functions  have 
ceased  to  call  forth  effort  necessary  to  the  fulfillment  of  the 
activities  of  manhood  and  womanhood. 

"Sitting  in  the  corner,  with  her  pipe,  her  book,  and  her  knit- 
ting, I  recall  the  picture  of  an  ancient  lady — a  mass  of  wrin- 
kles— almost  a  skeleton,  but  whose  vegetative  functions  still 
kept  the  spark  of  life  aglow;  happy  in  the  satisfaction  of  a 
well-spent  life,  able  to  entertain  a  king  or  a  beggar,  a  child  or 
a  philosopher,  her  daily  routine  was  from  her  book  to  her  pipe, 
from  her  pipe  to  her  knitting  and  from  all  three  to  the  enter- 
tainment of  friends.  This  good  old  grandmother  was  loved  by 
all,  and  when  she  came  to  die  the  spark  went  out  as  quietly  as 
the  flicker  of  a  burned-up  torch.  For  such  a  death  there  can 
be  no  regrets ;  for  such  a  life  the  world  is  made  better." 

"The  picture  you  draw,"  replied  the  traveler,  "of  a  well-spent 
life  is  ideal  in  its  simplicity  and  the  beauty  of  its  earthly  sur- 
roundings ;  but  the  hand  of  the  master  is  lacking— the  one  color 
essential  to  its  perfection  is  not  there.  Life,  immortal  life,  pic- 
tured on  the  brow,  and  shining  with  the  effulgence  of  a  glorious 
aureole  of  light,  completes  the  portrait,  and  we  have  a  master- 
piece by  the  Author  of  our  being.  A  belief  in  the  risen  Christ, 
faith  in  immortality,  and  submission  to  the  will  of  God  adds  a 
crown  of  glory  to  a  well-spent  life  unattainable  through  mental 


262  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

culture.  Without  this  faith  the  poetry  of  age  is  lost  in  the 
Stygian  pool  of  oblivion,  and  the  hard  prose  of  active  life  be- 
comes a  blotted  page  of  emptiness. 

"The  wrinkled  grandmother,  patiently  Avaiting  her  summons, 
with  this  crowii  in  sight,  is  an  invited  guest  to  her  home  in 
heaven.  The  Father  will  hold  out  his  hand  and  beckon  her  up 
the  golden  stairs,  and  the  Son  will  give  her  a  seat  amongst  the 
blessed.  This  state  is  the  crowning  glory  of  a  well-spent  life, 
and  instead  of  regrets,  the  hosts  of  heaven  will  rejoice,  and  the 
denizens  of  earth  should  have  no  cause  for  grief.  Let  us  leam 
to  indulge  this  hope  and  strive  for  the  immortal  crown." 

It  was  now  midday  and  Saturday.  The  conversation  had 
gone  on  to  a  degree  when  some  other  diversion  became  desirable. 
Dinner  was  announced,  and  after  the  meal  both  the  school- 
master and  his  friend  selected  a  book  and  soon  became  absorbed 
in  the  thoughts  of  those  who  had  lived  before  them.  Curious 
as  it  may  seem,  the  stranger  took  from  the  shelf  Voltaire's 
Philosophical  Dictionary,  and  the  schoolmaster  picked  up  the 
Bible.  For  a  couple  of  hours  they  both  read  and  thought. 
Tears  might  have  been  seen  in  the  eyes  of  the  traveler  as  he 
read  the  great  detractor's  pathetic  account  of  the  barbarous 
treatment  inflicted  upon  the  innocent  man  whose  tragic  death 
made  such  a  terrible  impression  on  his  mind  so  many  years 
ago.  The  schoolmaster,  instead  of  criticising  the  book  he  was 
reading,  selected  those  passages  which  appeal  most  strongly  to 
the  better  nature  of  man,  and  w^hich,  in  a  spirit  of  reverence, 
the  hum^ble  may  always  see  is  an  inspiration  beyond  the  power 
of  mere  intellectuality.  His  mind  began  to  turn  from  the  cold 
critique  of  reason  to  the  warmer  glow  of  passion.  Love,  joy, 
forgiveness,  charity,  thrilled  him  as  the  dry  details  of  logic 
never  had.  He  began  to  realize  that  there  was  something  more 
in  man  than  mere  thought.  Feelings,  which  he  had  all  his 
life  endeavored  to  subdue,  loomed  up  and  cried  out  against  the 
tyranny  of  rationality.  He  asked  himself,  "If  God  is  without 
passions,  where  did  man  get  his?"  The  inconsistency  of  scrip- 
ture was  to  him  a  stumbling-block,  as  it  had  been  to  the  Greek 
foolishness.  The  character  of  Jesus  Christ  as  portrayed  in  the 
gospels  was  intensely  human.  Did  he  inherit  his  human  na- 
ture from  Mary  and  his  other  nature  from  God?    Was  it  possi- 


Old  Age.  263 

ble  that  the  line  of  demarcation  could  be  so  sharply  defined?  or, 
was  the  whole  case  an  exception  to  the  law  of  heredity?  If 
the  entire  story  of  Jesus  was  a  legend,  how  came  we  by  such 
a  character?  By  what  hocus-pocus  of  logic  or  imagination 
could  such  a  life  have  been  invented?  That  he  had  all  the 
attributes  of  humanity  the  nam-ative  fully  demonstrates.  Was 
he  God  also  ?  Thousands  of  good  people  believed  it ;  the  incom- 
prehensible stranger  at  his  side  knew  it. 

He  laid  do^\ai  the  book,  and  turning  to  his  guest,  he  said: 
"I  am  almost  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian."  The  stranger  then 
repeated  Paul's  answer  to  Agrippa,  and  they  took  their  even- 
ing's walk. 

Strolling  down  toward  the  "chapel,"  they  saw  a  throng  busily 
engaged  in  placing  seats  in  the  church-yard — planks  laid  on 
logs  of  wood,  and  boxes  and  benches  taken  from  wagons  and 
arranged  under  the  shade  of  the  trees.  In  the  open  spaces  they 
were  erecting  bowers  of  evergreens,  and  in  one  corner  of  the 
yard  they  were  raising  a  platform  for  the  preacher.  The 
weather  being  hot  and  the  meeting-house  small,  it  was  decided 
that  an  outdoor  sermon  would  be  better  suited  to  the  crowd 
expected  on  the  morroAV. 

Not  wishing  to  interrupt  the  work  nor  to  be  criticised  by  idle 
curiosity,  they  turned  into  a  bypath  and  missed  the  church. 

"You  see  what  they  are  expecting,"  remarked  the  teacher,  as 
they  continued  their  walk. 

"I  fear  they  will  meet  with  disappointment,"  replied  the 
stranger,  "if  they  expect  anything  great,  but,  God  willing,  I 
hope  to  instruct  them  for  their  good,  and  show  them  the  neces- 
sity of  learning  the  way  of  salvation." 

Both  men  walked  on  in  silence — the  traveler  studying  out  a 
plan  by  which  to  reach  this  multitude,  and  the  schoolmaster 
racking  his  brain  over  the  problem  of  the  Triune  Godhead.  At 
length  the  walk  was  ended,  the  house  had  been  reached,  and  they 
both  felt  tired.  After  a  desultory  conversation  of  little  impor- 
tance, they  retired,  each  man  thinking  of  what  the  morrow 
might  bring. 


264  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

SUNDAY    MORNING.  ^ 

"Early  to  bed  aud  early  to  rise,"  a  part  of  Poor  Richard's 
proverb,  if  applicable  to  these  men  at  all,  certainly  did  not  in- 
clude that  fragment  which  applies  to  wealth.  As  to  health, 
if  we  may  trace  or  ascribe  cause,  there  may  be  some  connection, 
and  possibly  the  mental  vigor  so  manifest  in  these  two  was, 
more  or  less,  the  effect  of  a  continuous  viewing  of  the  rising  sun. 
At  any  rate,  they  were  early  risers,  and  on  this  particular 
morning  the  glorious  luminary  beamed  upon  them  as  he  came 
above  the  horizon,  and  they  seemed  to  feel  the  touch  of  God's 
finger  as  the  life-giving  ray  dispelled  the  gloom  and  darkness 
of  night.  It  was  a  glorious  morn,  and  a  light  wind  stirred 
and  dissipated  the  excessive  heat.  Much  was  to  be  gained 
by  an  early  walk,  so  they  wended  their  Avay  to  the  "chapel." 
Here  the  preparation  was  co-mplete  for  a  large  company.  The 
outdoor  pulpit  had  been  decorated  with  ferns  and  evergreen 
vines — the  Virginia  creeper  and  the  honeysuckle,  the  holly  and 
the  Southern  pine  formed  a  pleasing  contrast  as  they  were 
twined  and  arranged  by  the  deft  fingers  of  the  artist ;  for  the 
women  had  been  there  the  evening  before,  and  a  mixture  of 
pride  and  religion  had  been  at  work  to  produce  a  pleasing  effect. 

The  little  chapel  was  situated  on  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and 
the  sun  had  not  yet  penetrated  the  dense  foliage  of  the  trees, 
while  the  schoolmaster  and  his  friend  roamed  about  the  church- 
yard, amongst  the  arbors  and  settles  arranged  for  the  comfort 
of  the  audience.  Approaching  the  pulpit-side,  a  shadowy  form 
emerged  from  the  bower  and  flitted  away  into  the  semigloom 
of  the  forest. 

"There !"  exclaimed  the  traveler,  "there  goes  the  spirit  of 
peace.  It  has  been  here  to  bless  the  day  and  the  hour;  I  have 
seen  it  before  and  its  presence  augurs  well  for  the  day." 

This  outburst  of  superstitious  reverence — the  first  evidence 
the  schoolmaster  had  of  his  guest's  hyper-orthodoxy — brought 
to  mind  the  beautiful  lines  : 

"For  well  I  ween, 
Never  before  in  the  bowers  of  light 
Had  the  form  of  an  earthly  fay  Ijoeu  seen." 


Sundap  Morning.  265 

But  the  old  gentlemau  was  not  in  an  argaunentative  mood. 
He  was  willing  for  his  guest  to  enjoy  the  delusion  of  sense,  if 
such  it  was,  and  after  resting  a  moment,  they  quietly  Avalked 
back  to  the  house. 

About  11  o'clock  it  could  be  seen  from  the  house  that  the 
congregation  was  collecting.  From  miles  and  miles  around  the 
people  came.  I^ever  had  such  a  commotion  been  caused  in  a 
rural  community  over  a  Sunday  church-going.  Old  and  young, 
white  and  colored,  simple  and  wise — all  made  direct  for  the 
church  on  this  midsummer  day.  Many  went  through  curiosity, 
and  others  simply  because  they  had  nothing  else  to  do;  but 
the  great  majority  went  because  they  were  anxious  to  hear  the 
stranger  preach  and  see  the  schoolmaster  converted.  Mr.  Eliot 
being  the  only  infidel  in  this  community  of  Christians,  every 
eye  was  turned  upon  him  and  every  thought  directed  toward 
his  future  state.  His  uprightness,  his  charity,  his  doing  good 
for  evil,  his  love  for  his  fellownian,  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  estimation  in  which  he  was  held.  He  was  regarded  as 
the  incubus  which  weighed  most  heavily  on  the  spiritual  re- 
sources of  the  community.  Thieves,  liars,  drunkards,  and  mur- 
derers flourished  apace,  but  their  acts  were  not  remembered 
when  a  man  who  questioned  Holy  Writ  came  alongside.  He 
dared  to  ask  the  preacher  for  rational  explanations,  Avhile  the 
others  accepted  all  that  was  said,  and  repented  at  every  revival. 
They  would  be  saved  while  he  would  be  lost.  Hell  was  to  be 
avoided,  not  by  avoiding  wickedness  here,  but  by  faith  and 
repentance.  The  preacher  had  told  them  so,  and  they  believed 
the  preacher.  The  bigger  the  scoundrel  the  more  certain  he 
was  of  heaven,  provided  he  repented.  The  worst  liar  who  ever 
lived  now  had  the  keys.  Only  one  decent  man  had  ever  gotten 
there,  and  he  was  sent  up  in  a  whirlwind  surrounded  by  a 
chariot  of  fire.  David,  the  man  after  God's  own  heart,  had 
coveted  another  man's  wife,  and  Moses,  who  was  buried  by 
God  himself,  had  killed  a  man  in  his  youth.  They  remembered 
these  things,  but  they  forgot  that  the  wise  man  said : 

"Fear  God  and  keep  his  commandments :  for  this  is  the  whole 
duty  of  man." 


266  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"And, 

"Pure  religiou  and  unclefiled  before  God  and  the  Father  is  this, 
To  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep 
himself  unspotted  from  the  world.'' 

The  preacher  drove  up  about  the  time  Mr.  Eliot  and  his 
friend  reached  the  grounds.  Every  eye  Avas  upon  the  three. 
After  the  salutations  and  hearty  expressions  of  pleasure  at  the 
opportunity  of  the  day,  the  meeting  and  introduction  of  friends 
and  acquaintances,  the  preacher  and  the  stranger  walked  over 
to  the  boAver  and  seated  themselves  in  the  outdoor  pulpit.  The 
congregation  was  asked  to  sing  while  the  tAvo  men  held  a  pri- 
vate couA'ersation.  A  brother  raised  the  tune  and  the  Avhole 
company  joined  in  the  hymn,  Avhich  begins: 

"Teach  me,  my  God  and  King, 
In  all  things  thee  to  see." 

Enthusiasm  was  manifest  from  the  beginning,  and  the  forest 
echoed  the  harmony  of  the  soulful  tune.  The  music  ceased  and 
the  preacher  stood  up  before  the  audience. 

''Brethren  and  friends,"  he  said,  "this  is  a  glorious  day,  and 
the  occasion  is  a  glorious  occasion.  There  are  times  when  it 
seems  that  the  appetites  of  men  pall  at  the  mention  of  bread, 
M^hen  meats  cloy  and  drinks  become  abhorrent.  When  the  soul 
is  hungry  the  body  refuses  nourishment.  There  are  times  w^hen 
it  seems  that  the  Spirit  of  God  is  more  active,  when  the  hover- 
ing of  angels  is  more  manifest  in  the  affairs  of  men,  when  all 
things  give  way  to  the  longing  for  food  sent  from  heaven. 

"That  time,  it  seems  to  me,  is  here  now — this  day  and  this 
very  hour.  Strange,  unaccountable  things  have  occurred  in  all 
the  back  history  of  this  Avorld,  and  for  many  AA-eeks  AA^e  haA'e  had 
in  our  midst  an  unsolved  riddle — a  man  Avliose  history,  as  it 
has  leaked  out  little  by  little  in  this  community,  has  made  an 
impression  unaccountable  in  the  natural  sequence  of  events. 
If  Ave  are  laboring  under  a  delusion,  Ave  are  none  the  worse  off, 
for  his  conduct  has  been  that  of  a  gentleman,  his  couA^ersation 
has  proved  him  to  be  a  scholar,  and  his  Avalk  that  of  a  Chris- 
tian. He  is  endorsed  by  the  best  informed  man  in  this  or  any 
other  community,  and  as  the  impression  has  gone  forth  that  he 
is  to  assist  in  conducting  the  services  here  to-day,  I  have  chosen 


Sunday  Morning.  267 

rather  to  give  liini  the  entire  hotir,  for  his  experience,  as  I  un- 
derstand it,  will  be  an  enlightenment  to  us  all. 

"I  give  way  with  pleasure  to  the  instruction  of  our  fi'iend 
and  brother." 

The  preacher  sat  down,  and  the  stranger  rose  up  and  faced 
the  audience.  He  looked  over  the  whole  congregation  several 
times,  as  if  he  was  measuring  the  distance  to  the  remotest  seat 
in  the  church-yard.  The  silence  was  profound,  and  when  he 
spoke,  his  voice,  though  modulated  to  an  easy  tone,  was  heard 
by  the  remotest  listener.  He  did  not  touch  the  Bible;  he  gave 
out  no  hymn ;  he  uttered  no  prayer. 

He  spoke,  and  said :  "Friends,  if  I  were  to  say  I  am  embar- 
rassed I  should  not  speak  truth,  for  I  am  past  embarrassment ; 
if  elated,  I  should  be  vain,  but  I  have  parted  company  with 
vanity;  if  delighted,  I  should  be  proud,  and  I  am  not  proud; 
but  when  I  tell  you  I  feel  complimented  I  am  justified,  for  I 
am  not  aware  of  deserving  this  honor.  The  friend  at  whose 
house  I  have  been  entertained  for  the  past  few  weeks  has  been 
kind  enough  to  speak  well  of  me,  and  while  he  and  I  differ  as 
widely  as  midnight  differs  from  noon  on  the  most  vital  of  all 
subjects — on  the  subject  in  which  we  all  should  be  most  inter- 
ested, that  of  our  immortal  destinj^ — there  is  no  reason  why  w^e 
should  differ  as  to  the  brotherhood  of  man.  He  is  actuated  by 
the  purest  motives,  and  if  his  error  is  the  result  of  ignorance 
it  behooves  us  to  teach  and  not  to  condemn,  for  the  Savior 
said : 

"  '.Judge  not,  lest  ye  be  jntlged  by  the  same  judgment.' 

"And,  speaking  a  little  wratlif ully  to  the  self-satisfied,  he  said : 

"  'Thou  hypocrite !  Cast  out  first  the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye, 
and  then  shalt  thou  see  clearly  to  pull  out  the  mote  that  is  in  thy 
brother's  eye.' 

"So,  if  any  of  you  think  your  chance  of  heaven  is  better  than 
his,  it  Avill  become  you  to  cultivate  the  Christian  graces,  and 
remember  that  the  greatest  of  these  is  charity. 

"I  am  not  here  to-day  to  flatter,  but  to  speak  the  truth;  I 
am  not  here  to  make  a  good  impression,  but  to  bear  the  cross  of 
Christ.     There  was  a  time  when  I  spurned  that  burden,  but 


268  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

now  I  rejoice  in  tlie  privilege  of  carrying  it.  Nineteen  lum- 
dred  years  ago  I  drove  from  my  door  the  Holy  One  of  Israel — 
the  victim  of  fanaticism  and  hate,  refusing  him  a  paltry  re- 
quest— that  of  resting  a  moment  that  he  might  gain  strength 
to  carry  out  his  design  of  saving  a  sinful  world.  Since  then  I 
have  fought  the  good  fight,  and  with  God's  help  I  purpose  to 
remain  a  valiant  soldier  of  the  Cross.  I  shall  tell  you  what  I 
have  seen  before  I  conclude,  and  while  it  may  be  incredible  to 
your  minds,  it  is  as  true  as  that  Christ  was  born  of  a  virgin, 
or  that  he  fed  five  thousand  with  two  little  fishes  and  five 
loaves  of  bread, 

"In  the  Christian  ministry  it  is  customary  for  the  preacher 
to  select  a  text  from  the  Bible,  and  endeavor  to  explain  the 
thought  and  meaning  of  the  inspired  writer;  but  to-day  we 
will  speak  in  a  plain,  matter-of-fact  way  on  the  subject  of  igno- 
rance and  its  consequences.  The  Scriptures  very  clearly  teach 
that  ignorance  is  the  cause  of  sin,  and  I  shall  endeavor  to  show 
that  cause  and  effect  here  are  one  and  the  same  thing — that 
ignorance  itself  is  sin,  and  that  sin  and  doubt  in  a  moral  sense 
are  synonymous  terms. 

''When  God  made  man  he  made  him  upright  and  in  his  own 
image,  with  knowledge  amply  sufficient  for  his  needs  and  happi- 
ness; but  with  the  fall  came  a  consciousness  of  doubt,  sin,  and 
ignorance — interchangeable  terms  for  the  inheritance  bestowed 
upon  all  through  the  disobedience  of  one.  The  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil,  gained  by  eating  the  forbidden  fruit,  threw  man 
on  his  own  resources,  and  since  that  day  he  has  been  in  a 
quandary  as  to  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong.  Like  much 
of  the  knowledge  gained  in  these  days,  instead  of  adding  to 
our  happiness,  it  adds  to  our  grief,  and  unless  we  could  know 
more  it  would  be  better  for  us  not  to  know  so  much.  We  recog- 
nize the  principles  right  and  wrong,  good  and  evil,  as  potential 
activities,  yet  it  would  be  better  for  us  to  lack  this  cognizance, 
so  long  as  we  are  unable  to  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other. 
This  partial  knowledge  fell  upon  the  human  race  as  a  conse- 
quence of  Adam's  sin,  and  now  it  becomes  us  to  get  more  or  to 
sink  in  the  quicksands  of  infidelity.  The  line  of  demarcation 
is  not  very  clear  in  many  instances,  but  every  phenomenon  of 


Sundai;  Morning.  269 

existence  is  either  in  one  scale  or  the  other.  It  is  impossible 
that  anything  can  be  right  and  wrong  at  the  same  time  and 
under  the  same  circumstances. 

"If  it  is  right  to  be  ignorant,  then  the  pursuit  of  knowledge 
is  wrong,  and  all  schooling,  all  preaching,  all  reading,  and  all 
writing  should  be  abandoned ;  sending  the  gospel  to  the  heathen 
should  be  prohibited  and  all  literature  destroyed.  If  ignorance 
be  not  sin,  all  missionary  work  should  cease,  and  the  command, 
'Go  ye'  into  all  the  world  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  crea- 
ture,' should  be  countermanded,  and  the  Christian  faith  allowed 
to  perish. 

"If  the  heathen  be  not  already  damned  through  ignorance, 
then  the  Scripture  falsifies  its  own  statement,  and  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ  becomes  of  no  effect,  for  the  declaration  is  plain 
and  emphatic  that : 

"  'There  is  noue  other  name  under  heaven  given  among  men  whereby 
we  must  be  saved ;  neither  is  there  salvation  in  any  other.' 

"Ponder  it,  think  over  it,  my  friends !  Thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands  of  our  fellow-creatures  going  doTvm  into  the  eter- 
nal abyss  every  day,  there  to  weep  and  wail  in  everlasting  agony 
without  hope — with  no  possibility  of  redemption — and  all  for 
the  lack  of  a  knowledge  of  Him  who  was  sent  as  a  propitiation 
for  our  sins.  If  the  case  of  the  heathen  is  pitiable  from  a 
human  standpoint,  what  of  ours,  where  a  double  guilt  is  fast- 
ened upon  us — that  of  ignorance  and  willful  rejection  of  the 
message  ? 

"That  every  human  being  comes  into  this  world  without  any 
knowledge  whatever  is  a  self-evident  truth,  and  that  he  is  con- 
ceived in  sin  and  shapen  in  iniquity  is  an  assertion  of  Scrip- 
ture. Absolutely  ignorant,  totally  unprepared  for  any  kind  of 
life  except  a  purely  vegetative  existence,  the  human  infant  is 
confronted  at  once  Avith  good  and  evil,  right  and  wrong — the 
very  things  which  man  in  his  maturity  has  never  yet  been  able 
to  reconcile.  In  the  child-life  of  human  beings  parents  stand 
in  the  same  relation  to  them  that  God  stood  to  our  first  parents 
before  the  transgression.  But  man  born  of  woman  is  more 
pitiable  and  has   less  of  an  opportunity  than  the  full-grown. 


270  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

intelligent  being  issuing  forth  from  the  hands  of  his  Maker. 
If  the  one,  with  all  the  knowledge  necessary  to  his  happiness, 
failed,  how  is  it  possible  for  the  other,  absolutely  without 
knowledge,  to  succeed? 

"If  a  blind  man  were  to  set  out  on  a  journey,  with  innumera- 
ble roads  crooked  and  forked,  some  of  which  led  to  his  journey's 
end,  others  away  from  it,  with  tliousands  of  bypaths  reaching 
into  desert  places,  even  with  an  occasional  sentinel  along  the 
route  to  direct  him,  there  are  a  thousand  chances  to  one  that 
he  would  get  lost  and  fall  by  the  wayside.  Theseus,  in  the 
Cretan  labyrinth  without  the  guiding  thread  of  his  lady-love, 
would  have  been  no  more  hopelessly  in  the  dark  than  the  hu- 
man infant  confronted  with  good  and  evil.  Let  us  imagine  a 
debtor  and  a  creditor  page  in  the  ledger  of  human  accounts, 
with  every  error  recorded  on  the  debtor  side,  and  every  right 
action  written  on  the  credit  side — this  account  to  be  kept  from 
the  moment  of  birth  till  the  close  of  a  long  life.  Let  these 
debits  and  credits  be  represented  by  unit  values  or  numerical 
measures,  ranging  from  one  to  one  hundred,  according  to  the 
degree  of  good  or  evil,  right  or  wrong  in  the  actions.  Would 
it  be  possible  for  the  accounts  to  balance?  Will  the  'book  of 
life,'  recorded  in  the  Apocalypse  by  St.  John  the  Divine,  bal- 
ance when  the  great  day  of  reckoning  comes  ? 

"  'And  I  saw  the  dead,  small  aud  great,  stand  before  God ;  and 
the  books  were  opened :  aud  another  book  was  opened,  which  is 
the  book  of  life ;  aud  the  dead  were  judged  out  of  those  things  which 
were  written  in  the  books,  according  to  their  works.' 

"Revelation  and  common  sense  oftentimes  effect  At-one-ment 
in  which  the  sacred  writer  strikes  the  chord  of  human  con- 
sciousness in  a  key  which  produces  harmony  instead  of  discord ; 
and  the  note  of  true  science  will  always  vibrate  in  unison  with 
the  revealed  word  rightly  interpreted.  The  'book  of  life,' 
opened  in  the  presence  of  St.  John,  represents  the  ledger  ac- 
count of  human  thought  and  action  indelibly  stamped  on  the 
psychic  record  of  each  and  every  individual.  The  conflict  be- 
tween science  and  religion  is  nothing  more  than  a  misfit  inter- 
pretation of  the  natural  laAvs  of  the  Universe  and  the  revealed 


Sundai;  Morning.  271 

■word  of  God.  Science  falsely  so-called  is  the  abattoir  of  faith, 
and  reason  misapplied  is  the  fungoid  excrescence  of  criminal 
ignorance. 

''Let  any  man  take  his  owai  experience  and  ask  himself : 
Have  I  done  as  many  right  things  as  wrong  things?  have  I 
committed  as  many  good  deeds  as  evil  deeds?  Have  I  had  as 
many  good  thoughts  as  evil  thoughts?  Would  he  not  exclaim 
in  the  language  of  Paul? 

"  'I  know  that  there  dwelleth  not  in  me  that  which  is  good,  for 
the  good  which  I  will,  I  do  not ;  but  the  evil  which  I  will  not,  that 
I  do.' 

"Is  it  in  the  range  of  probability  that  the  blind  man  should 
go  straight  to  his  journey's  end  with  so  many  forks  and  crooks 
in  the  road  he  is  traveling?  Would  it  be  possible  to  get  out  of 
the  labyrinth  without  the  thread  for  a  guide?  Now,  is  it  possi- 
ble for  the  human  being  to  reach  his  coveted  goal  without  help  ? 

"That  help  is  offered  you  in  the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  this  brings  us  to  the  second  and  most  important  part  of  the 
discourse. 

"For  the  benefit  of  those  who  reject  the  supernatural  and 
who  regard  natural  law  as  the  only  revelation  of  God,  I  desire 
to  call  your  attention  to  some  facts  which  every  man's  expe- 
rience will  teach  him  are  realities,  and  in  many  instances  most 
calamitous  realities.  From  the  terrible  cataclysmic  disasters, 
such  as  earthquakes,  volcanic  eruptions,  storms  and  floods  which 
overwhelm  men,  causing  havoc  and  death,  down  to  the  most 
insignificant  individual  annoyances,  we  have  in  this  train  effects 
inimical  to  human  happiness  and  prosperity  which  men  have 
never  yet  been  able  to  circumvent  nor  to  anticipate.  Notwith- 
standing every  effort  made  by  the  deepest  insight,  and  the 
knowledge  gained  by  past  experience,  to  mitigate  and  prevent 
these  unpleasant  and  unprofitable  occurrences,  the  world  is  full 
of  accidents,  full  of  pain,  full  of  disease  and  death.  Whether 
a  man  lose  his  life  by  accident,  by  disease,  or  by  violence,  the 
fact  to  him  is  the  same — he  is  dead.  Material  philosophers 
who  reject  the  doctrine  of  rewards  and  punishments  are  wont 
to  call  these  consequences;  they  deny  any  connection,  kinship, 
or  jointure  whatever  with  sin — deny  punishment  and  attribute 
all  to  inexorable  law. 


272  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

'^li\  tlie  name  of  all  that  is  reasonable,  what  difference  can  it 
be  to  the  sufferer  whether  it  be  called  by  one  name  or  another — 
whether  it  be  punishment  inflicted  or  whether  it  be  consequence, 
either  of  violated  law,  of  accident,  or  of  sin?  The  suffering 
in  either  case  may  be  the  same,  but  for  the  violated  law  there  is 
no  forgiveness;  the  consequence  must  be  endured.  Nature  has 
no  mercy,  and  she  afflicts  the  innocent  the  same  as  the  guilty. 

"The  material  philosophy  teaches  that  for  violated  law  there 
can  be  no  modification  of  the  consequence,  let  the  suffering  be 
never  so  great.  It  makes  no  difference  between  accident  and 
willful  crime.  Intention  is  placed  in  the  same  category  with 
casualty.  It  has  no  moral  code,  and  it  ignores  sin.  It  is  inhu- 
man, soulless,  lifeless — dead.  It  belongs  to  the  inanimate 
world,  and,  constituted  as  men  are,  it  becomes  an  ignis  fatuus, 
leading  on  to  destruction.  To  be  a  materialist,  man  must  divest 
himself  of  passion,  deny  final  cause,  and  become  a  mass  of  rea- 
soning matter.  It  is  impossible :  and  the  man  who  fools  him- 
self with  this  pseudo-philosophy  is  criminally  ignorant  and 
ignorantly  sinful. 

"The  hell  he  has  constructed  for  our  future  abode  is  more 
horrible  in  its  structure  and  more  devilish  in  its  furnishings 
than  any  conception  of  the  Christian.  Admitting  the  impossi- 
bility of  making  the  account  balance,  he  consigns  all,  without 
exception  and  without  remedy,  to  this  endless  horror.  An 
exposition  of  the  fiendishness  of  this  Godless  philosophy  is 
nowhere  more  forcibly  expressed  than  in  the  writings  of  one  of 
its  m.odern  advocates : 

"  'In  Scripture  we  meet  with  several  doctrines  which  may  be  con- 
sidered as  the  approximate  formula,  the  imperfect,  partial,  and  in- 
accurate expression  of  certain  mighty  and  eternal  verities.  Thus 
the  spirituality  of  Christ's  character  and  the  snperhmuan  excellence 
of  his  life  lie  at  the  bottom  of  the  Incarnation ;  which  was  simply 
a  mistalie  of  the  morally  for  the  physically  divine,  an  idea  carnal- 
ized into  a  fact.  In  the  same  manner,  the  doctrine  of  the  eternity 
of  future  punishments,  false  as  it  must  be  in  its  ordinary  significa- 
tion, contains  a  glimpse  of  one  of  the  most  awful  and  indisputable 
truths  ever  presented  to  the  human  understanding,  viz.,  the  eternal 
and  ineffaceable  consequences  of  our  every  action,  the  fact  that 
every   word   and   every   deed   produces   effects   which   must,   by   the 


Siindap  Morning.  21 S 

very  nature  of  things,  reverberate  through  all  time,  so  that  the  whole 
of  futurity  would  be  different  had  that  word  never  been  spoken  or 
that  deed  enacted. 

"  'There  is  a  sense,  therefore,  in  which  the  eternity  of  future  pun- 
ishment may  be  irrefragably  and  terribly  true — if  that  very  en- 
hancement of  our  faculties  in  a  future  life  which  enables  us  to  per- 
ceive and  trace  the  ineffaceable  consequences  of  our  idle  words  and 
our  evil  deeds  should  render  our  remorse  and  grief  as  eternal  as  those 
consequences  themselves.  No  more  fearful  punishment  to  a  superior 
Intelligence  can  be  conceived  than  to  see  still  iu  action — with  the 
consciousness  that  it  must  continue  in  action  forever — a  cause  of 
wrong  put  in  motion  by  itself  ages  before. 

"  'The  pulsations  of  the  air,  once  set  in  motion  by  the  human 
voice,  cease  not  to  exist  with  the  sounds  to  which  they  gave  rise. 
Strong  and  audible  as  they  may  be  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
of  the  speaker,  and  at  the  immediate  moment  of  utterance,  their 
quickly-attenuated  force  soon  becomes  inaudible  to  human  ears.  But 
the  waves  of  air  thus  raised  perambulate  the  earth's  and  ocean's  sur- 
face, and  in  less  than  twenty  hours  every  atom  of  its  atmosphere 
takes  up  the  altered  movement  due  to  that  infinitesimal  portion  of 
primitive  motion  which  has  been  conveyed  to  it  through  countless 
channels,  and  which  must  continue  to  influence  its  path  throughout 
its  future  existence. 

"  'But  these  aerial  pulses,  unseen  by  the  keenest  eye,  unheard  by 
the  acutest  ear,  unperceived  by  human  senses,  are  yet  demonstrated 
to  exist  by  human  reason ;  and  in  some  few  and  limited  instances, 
by  calling  to  our  aid  the  most  reflued  and  compreliensive  instrument 
of  human  thought  (mathematical  analysis),  their  courses  are  traced 
and  their  intensities  measured.  Thus  considered,  what  a  strange 
chaos  is  this  wide  atmosphere  we  breathe!  Every  atom  impressed 
with  good  and  with  ill  retains  at  once  the  motions  which  philoso- 
phers and  sages  have  imparted  to  it,  mixed  and  combined  in  ten 
thousand  waves  with  all  that  is  worthless  and  base.  The  air  is  one 
vast  library,  on  whose  pages  is  forever  written  all  that  man  has 
ever  said  or  even  whispered.  There,  in  their  mutable  but  uner- 
ring characters,  mixetl  with  the  earliest  as  well  as  the  latest  sighs 
of  mortality,  stand  forever  recorded  vows  imredeemed,  promises  un- 
fulfilled, perpetuating,  in  the  united  movements  of  each  particle, 
the  testimony  of  man's  changeful  will. 

"  'But  if  the  air  we  breathe  is  the  never-failing  historian  of  the 
sentiments  we  have  uttered,  earth,  air,  and  ocean  are  in  like  manner 
the  eternal  witnesses  of  the  acts  we  have  done.  No  motion  impressed 
by  natural  causes  or  by  human  agency  is  ever  obliterated.  The 
track  of  evei-y  canoe  which  has  yet  disturbed  the  siu'face  of  the 
ocean  remains  forever  registered  in  the  future  movements  of  all 
succeeding  particles  which  may  occupy  its  place. 

'■  'While    the    atmosphere    we    breathe    is    the    ever-living    witness 

18 


274  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

of  the  seutiments  we  have  uttered,  the  waters  and  the  more  solid 
materials  of  the  globe  bear  equally  enduring  testimony  of  the  acts 
we  have  committed.  If  the  Almighty  stamped  on  the  brow  of  the 
earliest  murderer  the  visible  and  indelible  mark  of  his  guilt,  he 
has  also  established  laws  by  which  every  succeeding  criminal  is  not 
less  irrevocably  chained  to  the  testimony  of  his  crime ;  for  every 
atom  of  his  mortal  frame,  through  whatever  changes  its  several 
particles  may  migrate,  will  still  retain,  adhering  to  it  through  every 
combination,  some  movement  derived  from  that  very  muscular  effort 
by  which  the  crime  itself  was  perpetrated. 

"  'If  we  imagine  the  soul  in  an  after  stage  of  existence,  connected 
with  an  organ  of  hearing  so  sensitive  as  to  vibrate  with  motions 
of  the  air,  even  of  infinitesimal  force,  and  if  it  be  still  within  the 
precincts  of  its  ancient  abode,  all  the  accumulated  words  pronoimced 
from  the  creation  of  mankind  will  fall  at  once  on  that  ear ;  and  the 
punished  offender  may  hear  still  vibrating  on  his  ear  the  very  words 
uttered  perhaps  thousands  of  centuries  before,  which  at  once  caused 
and  registered  his  own  condemnation.' 

"Is  there  anything  in  Dante  or  Milton  more  horrible  in  its 
conception  of  future  torment?  Concede  the  revealed  hell  of 
the  Christian  and  the  reasoned-out  hell  of  the  philosopher  to 
be  of  equal  capacity  for  the  torture  of  lost  souls,  and  then  com- 
pare the  utter  hopelessness  of  escape  from  the  philosophic  hell, 
with  the  possibility — yea,  certainty,  on  one  condition,  of  avoid- 
ing the  Christian's  hell,  and  ask  yourself,  Which?  Choose! 
for  it  is  with  you.  God  himself  cannot  save  yon  without  your 
consent,  for  God  cannot  tell  a  lie ;  and  he  has  said : 

"  'By  grace  are  ye  saved  through  faith' ;  and.  'He  that  believeth 
and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be 
damned.' 

"A  summing  up  of  the  proposition  brings  it  to  this :  Nature 
demanding  compensations  in  all  its  minutest  details,  philoso- 
phy and  reason  can  only  balance  that  book  of  life — the  human 
account — by  adding  to  the  creditor  page  an  endless  place  of 
torment  for  every  soul  that  has  existed  on  this  earth.  This  is 
the  fiat  justitia,  mat  coelum,  or  the  proffer  of  materialism.  The 
proposition  of  Christ  is  a  promise : 

"  'Accept  me,  and  I  will  not  only  balance  your  account,  but  I  will 
blot  it  out,  and  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as 
white  as  snow;  though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as 
wool ;  for  I  will  forgive  your  iniquity,  and  I  will  remember  your 
sins  no  more.    Thus  saith  the  Lord.     Amen.' 


Sundap  Morning.  275 

"The  argaiment  is  closed — we  rest  here.  The  logic  of  it  to 
my  miud  is  conclusive.  Materialism  offers  nothing;  Chris- 
tianity offers  a  promise,  and  gives  you  a  hope.  You  say :  Sup- 
pose the  promise  is  false !  Suppose  it  is !  you  are  only  where 
the  materialist  is,  no  better — no  worse  off.  But,  friends,  there 
is  something  more  in  human  life  than  facts  and  reason — there 
is  experience;  and  from  this  the  categories  of  thought  get  all 
their  meaning,  which  is  the  only  proof  of  their  possibility. 

"But  the  experience  of  all  men  is  not  the  same — hence  the 
diversity  of  thought  in  the  every-day  business  of  life.  This 
applies  equally  to  our  thought  of  our  relation  to  God,  and  if 
we  find  we  cannot  interpret  our  life  without  rooting  it  in  the 
divine,  we  are  perfectly  free  to  do  so,  so  far  as  speculation 
goes.  But  speculation  does  not  always  reach  the  root — the  bot- 
tom of  things.  In  the  concrete  region  the  only  test  of  possi- 
bility apart  from  the  purely  negative  and  formal  one  of  non- 
contradiction is  experience. 

"We  view  the  Sphinx,  the  Pyramids  of  the  l^ile  valley,  and 
the  enormous  columns  of  the  ruined  city  of  Karnak;  and  we 
speculate  on  the  mechanical  means  by  which  they  were  placed 
in  position,  but  the  experience  of  all  that  host  of  architects  and 
laborers  is  lost,  and  imagination  only  can  fill  the  void  in  our 
knowledge. 

'^e  have  a  meager  account  of  the  trial,  crucifixion,  and 
resurrection  of  our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ,  all  of  which 
is  true,  but  the  half  has  never  been  told;  and  the  things  which 
Jesus  did,  the  which,  if  they  should  be  written  every  one,  I  sup- 
pose that  even  the  world  itself  could  not  contain  the  books  that 
should  be  written.  And  yet  the  experience  of  one  who  saw 
these  things  is  here  before  you  to-day;  for  unrecognized  as 
prophecy  often  is,  and  obscure  as  the  language  in  which  it  is 
written  may  seem,  the  eternal  verities  are  never  shaken — 'even 
the  mystery  which  hath  been  hid  from  ages,  and  from  genera- 
tions, but  is  now  made  manifest  to  his  saints.' 

"  'If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee?' 

"This  rebuke  to  Peter's  inquisitiveness  is  applicable  to  all 
succeeding  inquirers  into  the  mystery  of  godliness ;   and  if  I 


276  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

proclaim  the  truth  of  this  obscure  hint  as  one  of  the  most  stu- 
pendous miracles  connected  with  the  ministry  of  Christ,  I  only 
act  as  interpreter  of  his  word. 

"  'The  foxes  have  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests,  but 
the  sou  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head.' 

"This  has  a  deeper  meaning  than  the  poverty  of  Him  who 
preached  against  riches,  for  it  includes  the  wanderings  of  lost 
souls,  emphasized  by  the  endless  pererration  of  the  man  whose 
lot  it  is  to  go  on  till  His  return. 

"On  that  awful  day,  full  nineteen  hundred  years  ago,  when 
the  most  appalling  scene  ever  enacted  amongst  men  was  car- 
ried into  effect — when,  through  ignorance,  fanaticism,  and 
hate,  the  most  cruel,  unjustifiable,  and  cold-blooded  murder  ever 
committed  on  this  earth  was  perpetrated,  and  that,  too,  under 
the  sanction  of  law :  suddenly,  about  the  sixth  hour,  to  the  west- 
ward, there  arose  a  vast,  cloudy  vapor,  which  by  degrees  ex- 
panded, mounted,  and  seemed  to  be  slowly  diffusing  itself  over 
the  whole  face  of  the  heavens.  By  and  by  this  vast  sheet  of 
mist  began  to  thicken  toward  the  horizon,  and  to  roll  forward 
in  billowy  volumes.  The  spectators  to  this  scene,  among  whom 
I,  myself,  unwittingly  became  an  eye-witness,  put  conjecture 
on  the  stretch  to  divine  the  cause  of  this  phenomenon ;  and  the 
interest  continually  increased  in  proportion  as  simple  curiosity 
gradually  deepened  into  the  anxiety  of  uncertain  danger.  At 
first  it  had  been  imagined  that  a  paludal  vapor  had  risen  from 
the  miasmatic  bogs  of  the  lowlands,  and  that  the  sun's  rays 
would  soon  dissipate  the  mist  and  restore  the  sky  to  its  azure 
tint.  But  this  conjecture  was  dissipated  by  the  slow  increase 
of  the  cloud  and  the  steadiness  of  its  motion.  In  the  course  of 
an  hour  the  vast  phenomenon  had  advanced  to  a  point  which 
was  judged  to  be  within  a  mile  of  the  spectators;  though  all 
calculation  of  distance  were  difficult,  and  often  fallaciovis,  when 
applied  to  the  rocky  undulations  of  the  Judean  hills.  Through 
the  next  hour,  during  which  the  gentle  morning  breeze  had  a 
little  freshened,  the  murky  vapor  had  developed  itself  far  and 
wide  into  the  appearance  of  huge  aerial  draperies,  hanging  in 
mighty  volumes  from  the  sky  to  the  earth;  and  at  particular 


Sunday  Morning.  211 

points,  where  the  eddies  of  the  breeze  acted  upon  the  pendulous 
skirts  of  these  aerial  curtains,  rents  were  perceived,  sometimes 
taking  the  form  of  regular  arches,  portals,  and  windows  through 
which  began  dimly  to  gleam  the  forms  of  winged  angels  'in- 
dorsed' with  ministering  spirits,  and  at  intervals  the  moving  of 
evil  genii  and  demons  in  tumultuous  array,  and  then  through 
other  openings  or  vistas,  at  far  distant  points,  the  flashing  of 
fiery  darts  and  vivid  streaks  of  light.  There  was  no  noise ; 
else  it  might  have  been  considered  an  electric  rain-cloud  of 
unusual  appearance.  After  a  while  the  wind  slackened  and 
finally  died  away,  when  all  those  openings  of  whatever  form  in 
the  cloudy  pall  slowly  closed  and  the  whole  pageant  was  shut 
up  from  view.  Until  the  ninth  hour  this  dark  mantle  hung  over 
the  earth  like  an  inverted  bowl,  through  which  the  sun  could 
only  be  seen  as  a  faintly  luminous  spot ;  but  notwithstanding 
the  murkiness  of  the  cloud,  and  the  intense  gloominess  of  its 
shadow,  a  faint  light  of  day  could  be  perceived  in  the  diapha- 
nous sky  above ;  and  as  through  a  glass  darkly  could  be  seen  the 
outlines  of  shadoAvy  forms  contending  in  battle  array. 

"It  was,  in  fact,  the  host  of  heaven  in  conflict  Avith  the 
powders  of  darkness ;  good  striving  with  evil ;  brotherly  love 
warring  with  the  evil  passions  of  men — Satan  contending  for 
the  Throne  of  Heaven.  From  the  sixth  to  the  ninth  hour  the 
unequal  contest  raged;  and,  when  the  banner  of  the  Cross  lay 
prostrate  before  the  enemies  of  Light,  and  surrender  came 
with  the  heartrending  wail  of  the  sacrificial  Victim,  a  bugle- 
note  of  victory  sounded  in  the  enemy's  camp.  Pandemonium 
was  stirred  from  center  to  circumference  with  the  revelry  of 
fiends,  while  Jehovah  boAved  his  head  in  shame  at  the  wicked- 
ness of  men.  But  the  rejoicing  in  hell  was  of  short  duration. 
On  the  third  day  consternation  seized  hold  on  the  unclean 
spirits,  and  Avith  wailings  and  gnashings  of  teeth,  hellish  roars 
went  up  from  the  flaming  pit,  and  the  father  of  lies  was  com- 
pelled to  acknowledge  defeat.  But,  friends,  no  amount  of  dis- 
appointment can  thwart  his  evil  intentions.  Checkmated  at 
one  point,  he  brings  his  tactics  to  bear  on  another,  and  no 
description  better  fits  the  hidden  resources  of  this  arch  fiend 
than  that  of  the  poet : 


278  The  Lantern  of  Diogenes. 

"  'Whyles   ranging  like  a   roaring   lion. 
For  prey  a'  holes  and  corners  tryin' : 
Wbyles  on  the  strong-wiug'd  tempest 
flyin', 

Tirlin"  the  kirks ; 
Whyles  in  the  human  bosom  piyin', 
Unseen  thou  lurks.' 

"Yea,  in  the  human  bosom  lie  lurks  unseen !  Cast  him  out 
and  turn  to  the  sacrifice  of  your  Maker : 

"  Tor  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Sou, 
that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlast- 
ing life.'  " 

The  stranger  sat  down  and  the  preacher  stood  up  in  his  stead. 
He  was  about  to  congratulate  the  congregation,  but  seeing 
signs  of  emotion  in  the  audience,  he  asked  for  a  hymn  to  be 
sung  and  exhorted  his  flock  to  repentance.  "With  the  soul- 
stirring  music,  the  overcharged  emotions  burst  forth  in  shouts 
and  prayers  and  hosannas  to  the  Highest.  The  schoolmaster 
fell  upon  his  knees,  and  many  others  saw  angels  in  the  air  and 
in  the  tops  of  the  trees  beckoning  upward.  The  excitement  ran 
high  and  many  names  were  added  that  day  to  the  church.  The 
schoolmaster  joined  on  probation,  as  was  then  the  privilege; 
but  he  never  got  further,  for  his  lifetime  rationalism  came  to 
his  rescue  after  the  excitement  w^as  over,  and  he  dropped  back 
into  his  old  materialistic  philosophy,  doubting  everything,  and 
died  calling  for  more  light.  His  end  was  neither  peaceful  nor 
happy.  His  school  broke  up,  and,  having  no  family,  he  wan- 
dered from  home  and  died  in  the  house  of  the  stranger. 

At  the  end  of  the  services  the  traveler  was  looked  for,  but  he 
could  not  be  found.  His  track  was  seen  in  the  road  for  many 
miles,  but  no  one  had  met  him.  To  this  day  the  little  "chapel" 
stands  there  in  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and  the  sparse  congrega- 
tion, as  they  collect  every  fourth  Sunday,  never  cease  to  speak 
of  the  meeting  when  the  stranger  preached. 


THE  END. 


APPENDIX. 


The  earliest  extant  mention  of  the  Wandering  Jew  is  to  be  found 
in  the  boolv  of  the  chroriicles  of  the  Abbey  of  St.  Albans,  which 
was  copied  and  continued  by  Matthew  Paris.  He  records  that  in 
the  year  1228  "a  certain  Archbishop  of  Armenia  the  Greater  came 
on  a  pilgrimage  to  England  to  see  the  relics  of  the  saints  and  visit 
the  sacred  places  in  the  kingdom,  as  he  had  done  in  others;  he  also 
produced  letters  of  recommendation  from  his  Holiness  the  Pope  to 
the  religious  and  the  prelates  of  the  churches,  in  which  they  were 
enjoined  to  receive  and  entertain  him  with  due  reverence  and  honor. 
On  his  arrival  he  came  to  St.  Albans,  where  he  was  received  with  all 
respect  by  the  abbot  and  the  monks;  and  at  this  place,  being 
fatigued  with  his  journey,  he  remained  some  days  to  rest  himself 
and  his  followers,  and  a  conversation  took  place  between  him  and 
the  inhabitants  of  the  convent,  by  means  of  their  interpreters,  dur- 
ing whicli  he  made  many  inquiries  relating  to  the  religion  and  re- 
ligious observances  of  this  country,  and  told  many  strange  things 
concerning  the  countries  of  the  East.  In  the  course  of  conversation 
he  was  asked  whether  he  had  ever  seen  or  heard  anything  of 
Joseph,  a  man  of  whom  there  was  much  talk  in  the  world,  who, 
when  our  Lord  suffered,  was  present  and  spoke  to  Him,  and  who  is 
still  alive,  in  evidence  of  the  Christian  faith ;  in  reply  to  which  a 
knight  in  his  retinue,  who  was  his  interpreter,  replied,  speaking  in 
French :  'My  lord  well  knows  that  man,  and  a  little  before  he  took 
his  way  to  the  western  coimtries  the  said  Joseph  ate  at  the  table  of 
my  lord  the  Archbishop  of  Armenia,  and  he  has  often  seen  and  con- 
versed with  him.' 

"He  was  then  asked  about  what  had  passed  between  Christ  and 
the  said  Joseph ;  to  which  he  replied :  'At  the  time  of  the  passion  of 
Jesus  Christ,  He  was  seized  by  the  Jews,  and  led  into  the  hall  of 
judgment  before  Pilate,  the  Governor,  that  He  might  be  judged  by 
him  on  the  accusation  of  the  Jews ;  and  Pilate,  finding  no  fault 
for  which  he  might  sentence  Him  to  death,  said  unto  them,  "Take 
Him  and  judge  Him  according  to  your  law."  The  shouts  of  the 
Jews,  however,  increasing,  he  at  their  request  released  unto  them 
Barabbas.  and  delivered  Jesus  to  them  to  be  crucified.  When,  there- 
fore, the  Jews  were  dragging  Jesus  forth,  and  had  reached  the  door, 
Cartaphilus,  a  porter  of  the  hall  in  Pilate's  service,  as  Jesus  was 
going  out  of  the  door,  impiously  struck  Him  on  the  back  with  his 
hand,  and  said  in  mockery :  "Go  quicker,  Jesus ;  go  quicker :  why 
do  you  loiter?"  and  Jesus,  looking  back  on  him  with  a  severe  coim- 
tenance,  said  to  him.  "I  am  going,  and  you  shall  wait  till  I  return." 
And  according  as  our  Lord  said,  this  Cartaphilus   is  still  awaiting 


280  Appendix. 

His  return.  At  the  time  of  our  Lord's  suffering  be  was  thirty  years 
old,  and  when  he  attains  the  age  of  a  hundred  years,  he  always  re- 
turns to  the  same  age  as  he  was  when  our  Lord  suffered.  After 
Christ's  death,  when  the  Catholic  faith  gained  ground,  this  Cartaph- 
ilus  was  baptized  by  Ananias  (who  also  baptized  the  Apostle  Paul), 
and  was  called  Joseph.  He  dwells  in  one  or  other  divisions  of 
Armenia,  and  in  divers  Eastern  countries,  passing  his  time  amongst 
the  bishops  and  other  prelates  of  the  Church ;  he  is  a  man  of  holy 
conversation,  and  religious;  a  man  of  few  words,  and  very  circum- 
spect in  his  behavior;  for  he  does  not  speak  at  all  unless  when 
questioned  by  the  bishops  and  religious;  and  then  he  relates  the 
events  of  olden  times,  and  speaks  of  things  which  occurred  at  the 
suffering  and  resurrection  of  our  Lord,  and  of  the  witnesses  of  the 
resurrection,  namely,  of  those  who  rose,  with  Christ,  and  went 
into  the  holy  city,  and  appeared  imto  men.  He  also  tells  of  the 
creed  of  the  Apostles,  and  of  their  separation  and  preaching.  And 
all  this  he  relates  without  smiling,  or  levitj-  of  conversation,  as  one 
who  is  well  practiced  in  sorrow  and  the  fear  of  God,  always  looking 
forward  with  dread  to  the  coming  of  Jesus  Christ,  lest  at  the  Last 
Judgment  he  should  find  him  in  anger  whom,  when  on  his  way  to 
death,  he  had  provoked  to  just  vengeance.  Numbere  came  to  him 
from  different  pai*ts  of  the  world,  enjoying  his  society  and  conver- 
sation ;  and  to  them,  if  they  are  men  of  authority,  he  explains  all 
doubts  on  the  matters  on  which  he  is  questioned.  He  refuses  all 
gifts  that  are  offered  him,  being  content  with  slight  food  and  cloth- 
ing.' " 

We  hear  no  more  of  the  Wandering  Jew  till  the  sixteenth  century, 
when  we  hear  first  of  him  in  a  casual  manner,  as  assisting  a  weaver, 
Kobot,  at  the  royal  palace  in  Bohemia  (1505),  to  find  a  treasure 
which  had  been  secreted  by  the  great-grandfather  of  Kobot.  sixty 
years  before,  at  which  time  the  Jew  was  present.  He  then  had  the 
appearance  of  being  a  man  of  seventy  years.* 

Curiously  enough,  we  next  hear  of  him  in  the  East,  where  he  is 
confounded  with  the  prophet  Elijah.  Early  in  the  century  he  ap- 
peared to  Fadhilah.  imder  iieculiar  circmnstances. 

After  the  Arabs  had  captured  the  city  of  Elvau.  Fadhilah.  at  the 
head  of  three  hundred  horsemen,  pitched  his  tents,  late  in  the 
evening,  between  two  mountains.  Fadhilah,  having  begun  his  evening 
prayer  with  a  loud  voice,  heard  the  words  "Allah  akbar"  (God  is 
great)  repeated  distinctly,  and  each  word  of  his  prayer  was  fol- 
lowed in  a  similar  manner.  Fadhilah,  not  believing  this  to  be  the 
result  of  an  echo,  was  much  astonished,  and  cried  out.  "O  thou ! 
whether  thou  art  of  the  angel  ranks,  or  whether  thou  art  of  some 
other  order  of  spirits,  it  is  well;  the  power  of  God  be  with  thee; 
but  if  thou  art  a  man,  then  let  mine  eyes  light  upon  thee,  that  I  may 
rejoice  in  thy  pre.sence  and  society."     Scarcely  had  he  sjioken  these 


*Gubilz,  Gesellsch,  1845,  No.  18. 


Appendix.  281 

words,  before  im  aged  man,  with  buld  bead,  stood  before  him,  hold- 
ing a  staff  in  his  hand,  and  much  resembling  a  dervish  in  appearance. 
After  having  courteously  saluted  him,  Fadhilah  aslved  the  old  man 
who  he  was.  Thereupon  the  stranger  ausweretl.  "Bassi  Hadhret 
Issa.  I  am  here  by  command  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  who  has  left  me  in 
this  world  that  I  may  live  therein  until  he  comes  a  second  time  to 
earth.  I  wait  for  this  Lord,  who  is  the  Foimtain  of  Happiness,  and 
in  obedience  to  his  command  I  dwell  behind  yon  moimtaiu."  When 
Fadhilah  heard  these  words,  he  asked  when  the  Lord  Jesus  would  ap- 
pear; and  the  old  man  replied  that  his  appearing  would  be  at  the 
end  of  the  world,  at  the  Last  Judgment.  But  this  only  increased 
Fadhilah-s  curiosity,  so  that  he  inquired  the  signs  of  the  approach 
of  the  end  of  all  things,  whereupon  Zerib  Bar  Elia  gave  him  an  ac- 
count of  general,  social,  and  moral  dissolution,  which  would  be  the 
climax  of  this  world's  history.* 

In  1547  he  was  seen  iu  Europe,  if  we  are  to  believe  the  follow- 
mg  naiTation : 

"Paul  von  Eitzen,  doctor  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  Bishop  of 
Schleswig,t  related  as  true  for  some  years  past,  that  when  he  was 
young,  having  studied  at  Wittemberg,  he  returned  home  to  his 
parents  in  Hamburg  iu  the  winter  of  the  year  1547,  and  that  on  the 
following  Simday,  in  churc-h,  he  observed  a  tall  man,  with  his  hair 
hanging  over  his  shoulders,  standing  barefoot,  during  the  sermon. 
over  against  the  pulpit,  listening  with  deepest  attention  to  the  dis- 
course, and,  whenever  the  name  of  Jesus  was  mentioned,  bowing 
himself  profomidly  and  humbly,  with  sighs  and  beating  of  the  breast. 
He  had  no  other  clothing,  in  the  bitter  cold  of  the  winter,  except  a 
pair  of  hose  which  v.-ere  in  tatters  about  his  feet,  and  a  coat  with  a 
girdle  Avhich  reached  to  his  feet;  and  his  general  appearance  was 
that  of  a  man  of  fifty  years.  And  many  people,  some  of  high  de- 
gree and  title,  have  seen  this  same  man  in  England.  France.  Italy. 
Hungary.  Persia.  Spain.  Poland,  Moscow,  Lapland,  Sweden.  Denmark! 
Scotland,  and  other  places. 

"Every  one  wondereil  over  the  man.  Now.  after  the  sermon,  the 
said  doctor  inquired  diligently  where  the  stranger  was  to  be  found ; 
and  when  he  had  sought  him  out.  he  inquired  of  him  privately  whence 
he  came,  and  how  long  that  winter  he  had  been  in  the  place.  There- 
upon he  replied,  modestly,  that  he  was  a  Jew  by  birth,  a  native  of 
Jemsalem,  by  name  Ahasveiiis.  by  trade  a  shoemaker;  he  had  been 
present  at  the  crucifixion  of  Christ,  and  had  lived  ever  since,  travel- 
ing through  various  lands  and  cities,  the  which  he  substantiated  by 
accomits  he  gave;  he  related  also  the  circiunstances  of  Christ's 
transference  from  Pilate  to  Herod,  and  the  final  crucifixion,  together 

*Herbelot,  Bihl.  Orient,  iii,  p.  607. 
nhi  Jf^^i^i  Jv,?"r"  Ji^,  ^°'""  January  25,  1522,  at  Hamburg;  in  1562  he  was  appointed 
Eitlen   Hamb  ^i^^4f  ^'^s^'^'  a°d  died  February  25,  1598.     (Greve,  Memor   P.  ab. 


282  Appendix. 


with  other  details  not  recorded  iu  the  Evangelists  and  historians ; 
he  gave  accounts  of  the  changes  of  government  iu  many  countries, 
espec-ially  of  the  East,  through  several  centuries ;  and  moreover  he 
detailed  the  labors  and  deaths  of  the  holy  Apostles  of  Christ  most 
circumstantially. 

"Now,  when  Doctor  Paul  v.  Eitzeu  heard  this  with  profound  aston- 
ishment, on  account  of  its  incredible  novelty,  he  inquired  further, 
in  order  that  he  might  obtain  more  accurate  iufoi'mation.  Then  the 
man  answered  that  he  had  lived  in  Jeiiisalem  at  the  time  of  the 
crucifixion  of  Christ,  whom  he  had  regardetl  as  a  deceiver  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  a  heretic;  he  had  seen  Him  with  his  own  eyes,  and  had  done 
his  best,  along  with  others,  to  bring  this  deceiver,  as  he  regarded 
Him,  to  justice,  and  to  have  Him  put  out  of  the  way.  When  the 
sentence  had  been  pronounced  by  Pilate,  Christ  was  about  to  be 
dragged  past  his  house ;  then  he  ran  home,  and  called  together  his 
household  to  have  a  look  at  Christ,  and  see  what  sort  of  a  person  He 
was. 

"This  having  been  done,  he  had  his  little  child  on  his  arm,  and 
was  standing  iu  his  doorway,  to  have  a  sight  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"As,  then,  Christ  was  led  by,  bowed  under  the  weight  of  the  heavy 
cross.  He  tried  to  rest  a  little,  and  stood  still  a  moment ;  but  the 
shoemaker,  in  zeal  and  rage,  and  for  the  sake  of  obtaining  credit 
among  the  other  Jews,  drove  the  Lord  Christ  forward,  and  told  Him 
to  hasten  on  His  way.  Jesus,  obeying,  looked  at  him,  and  said,  'I 
shall  stand  and  rest,  but  thou  shalt  go  till  the  last  day.'  At  these 
words  the  man  set  down  the  child ;  and,  unable  to  remain  where  he 
was,  he  followed  Christ,  and  saw  how  cruelly  He  was  crucified, 
how  He  suffered,  how  He  died.  As  soon  as  this  had  taken  place, 
it  came  upon  him  suddenly  that  he  could  no  more  return  to  Jerusalem 
nor  see  again  his  wife  and  child,  but  must  go  forth  into  foreign 
lands,  one  after  another,  like  a  mournful  pilgrim.  Now,  when,  years 
after,  he  returned  to  Jerusalem,  he  found  it  ruined  and  utterly  razed, 
so  that  not  one  stone  was  left  standing  on  another :  and  he  could 
not  recognize  former  localities. 

"He  believes  that  it  is  God's  purpose,  in  thus  driving  him  about 
in  miserable  life,  and  preserving  him  imdying.  to  present  him  before 
the  Jews  at  the  end,  as  a  living  token,  so  that  the  godless  and  un- 
believing may  remember  the  death  of  Christ,  and  be  turned  to  re- 
pentance. For  his  part  he  would  well  rejoice  were  God  in  Heaven 
to  release  him  from  this  vale  of  tears.  After  this  conversation.  Doc- 
tor Paul  v.  Eitzen,  along  with  the  rector  of  the  school  of  ILimburg, 
who  was  well  read  in  history,  and  a  traveler,  qiiestioned  him  about 
events  which  had  taken  place  in  the  East  since  the  death  of  Christ, 
and  he  was  able  to  give  them  much  information  on  many  ancient  mat- 
ters ;  so  that  it  was  impossible  not  to  be  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
his  story,  and  to  see  what  seems  impossible  with  men  is,  after  all, 
possible  with  God. 


Appendix.  283 

"Since  the  Jew  has  had  his  life  exteiuled,  he  has  become  silent 
and  reserved,  and  only  answers  direct  questions.  When  invited  to  be- 
come any  one's  guest,  he  eats  little,  and  drinks  in  great  moderation ; 
then  hurries  on.  never  remaining  long  in  one  place.  When  at  Ham- 
burg. Dantzig.  and  elsewhere,  money  has  been  offered  him,  he  never 
took  more  than  two  shillings  (fourpence,  one  farthing),  and  at  once 
distributed  it  to  the  poor,  as  token  that  he  needed  no  money,  for 
God  would  provide  for  him,  as  he  rued  the  sins  he  had  committed  in 
ignorance. 

"During  the  period  of  his  stay  in  Hamburg  and  Dantzig  he  was 
never  seen  to  laugh.  In  whatever  land  he  tra^•eled  he  spoke  its 
language,  and  when  he  spoke  Saxon,  it  was  like  a  native  Saxon. 
Many  people  came  from  different  places  to  Hamburg  and  Dantzig 
In  order  to  see  and  hear  this  man,  and  were  convinced  that  the 
providence  of  God  was  exercised  in  this  individual  in  a  very  remark- 
able manner.  He  gladly  listened  to  God's  word,  or  heard  it  spoken 
of  always  with  great  gravity  and  compunction,  and  he  ever  reverenced 
with  sighs  the  pronunciation  of  the  name  of  God,  or  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  could  not  endure  to  hear  curses ;  but  whenever  he  heard  any  one 
swear  by  God's  death  or  pains,  he  waxed  indignant,  and  exclaimed, 
with  vehemence  and  with  sighs,  'Wretched  man  and  miserable  crea- 
ture, thus  to  misuse  the  name  of  thy  Lord  and  God,  and  His  bit- 
ter sufferings  and  passion.  Hadst  thou  seen,  as  I  have,  how  heavy 
and  bitter  were  the  pangs  and  wounds  of  thy  Lord,  endured  for  thee 
and  for  me,  thou  wouldst  rather  undergo  great  pain  thyself  than  thus 
take  His  sacred  name  in  vain !' 

"Such  is  the  account  given  to  me  by  Doctor  Paul  von  Eitzen,  with 
many  circumstantial  proofs,  and  corroborated  by  certain  of  my  own 
old  acquaintances  who  saw  this  same  individual  with  their  own  eyes 
in  Hamburg." 

The  statement  that  the  Wandering  Jew  appeared  in  Lubeck  in  IGOl 
does  not  tally  with  the  more  precise  chronicle  of  Henricus  Bangert, 
which  gives:  "Die  Uf,  Januarii  Anno  MDCII.,  adnotatum  rcliquit 
Lul)ec<B  ftdsse  Judceum  iUuni  immortalem,  qui  se  Christi  criiciflxioni 
interftiisse  afflrma vit.'"* 

In  1604  he  seems  to  have  appeared  in  Paris.  Rudolph  Botoreus 
says,  imder  this  date:  "I  fear  lest  I  be  accused  of  giving  ear  to 
old  wives'  fables,  if  I  insert  in  these  pages  what  is  reported  all 
over  Europe  of  the  Jew,  coeval  with  the  Savior  Christ;  however, 
nothing  is  more  common,  and  our  popular  histories  have  not  scrupled 
to  assert  it.  Following  the  lead  of  those  who  wrote  our  annals,  I 
may  say  that  he  who  appeared  not  in  one  century  only,  in  Spain, 
Italy,  and  Germany,  was  also  in  this  year  seen  and  recognized  as  the 
same   individual   who    had   appeared    in    Hamburg,    anno    IVIDLXVI. 

*Henr.  Bangert,  Comment,  de  Ortu,  Vita,  et  Excessu  Coleri,  I.  Cti.  Lubec. 


284  Appendix. 

The  common  people,  bold  in  spreading  reports,  relate  many  things 
of  him;  and  this  I  allude  to.  lest  anything  should  Ije  left  unsaid."^ 

J.  O.  Bulenger  puts  the  date  of  the  Hamburg  visit  earlier.  "It  was 
reported  at  this  time  that  a  Jew  of  the  time  of  Christ  was  wander- 
ing without  food  and  drink,  having  for  a  thousand  and  odd  years  been 
a  vagabond  and  outcast,  condemned  by  God  to  rove,  because  he, 
of  that  genex-ation  of  vipers,  was  the  first  to  cry  out  for  the  cruci- 
fixion of  Christ  and  the  release  of  Barabbas ;  and  also  because  soon 
after,  when  Christ,  panting  under  the  burden  of  the  rood,  sought 
to  rest  before  his  workshop  (he  was  a  cobbler),  the  fellow  ordered 
Him  off  with  acerbity.  Thereupon  Christ  replied.  'Because  thou 
grudgest  Me  such  a  moment  of  rest,  I  shall  enter  into  My  rest,  but 
thou  Shalt  wander  I'estless.'  At  once,  frantic  and  agitated,  he  fled 
through  the  whole  earth,  and  on  the  same  account  to  this  day  he 
journeys  through  the  world.  It  was  this  pei'son  who  was  seen  in 
Hamburg  in  ^NIDLXIV.  Credat  Juxhvus  Apella .'  I  did  not  see  him, 
or  hear  anything  authentic  concerning  him.  at  that  time  when  I  was 
in  Paris."- 

A  curious  little  book."  written  against  the  quackery  of  Paracelsus, 
by  Leonard  Doldius.  a  Niimberg  physician,  and  translated  into  Latin 
and  augmented,  by  Andreas  Libavius,  doctor  and  physician  of  Roten- 
berg,  alludes  to  the  same  story,  and  gives  the  Jew  a  new  name  no- 
where else  met  with.  After  having  referred  to  a  report  that  Para- 
celsus was  not  dead,  but  was  seated  alive,  asleep  or  napping,  in  his 
sepulchre  at  Strasburg.  preserved  from  death  by  some  of  his  spe- 
cifics. Labavius  declares  that  he  would  sooner  believe  in  the  old  man. 
the  Jew,  Ahasverus,  wandering  over  the  world,  called  by  some  But- 
tadfeus,  and  otherwise,  again,  by  others. 

He  is  said  to  have  appeared  in  Naumburg.  but  the  date  is  not 
given ;  he  was  noticed  in  church,  listening  to  the  sermon.  After 
the  service  he  was  questioned,  and  he  related  his  story.  On  this  occa- 
sion he  received  presents  from  the  burghers.^  In  1633  he  was  again 
in  Hamburg.^  In  the  year  1640,  two  citizens,  living  in  the  Gerber- 
strasse.  in  Brussels,  were  walking  in  the  Sonian  wood,  when  they  en- 
countered an  aged  man,  whose  clotlies  were  in  tatters  and  of  an  an- 
tiquated appearance.  They  invited  him  to  go  with  them  to  a  house 
of  refreshment,  and  he  went  with  them,  but  would  not  seat  himself, 
remaining  on  foot  to  drink.  When  he  came  before  the  doors  with  the 
two  burghers,  he  told  them  a  great  deal ;  hut  they  were  mostly  stories 
of  events  which  had  happened  many  hundred  years  before.  Hence, 
the  burghers  gathered  that  their  companion  was  Isaac  Laquedem. 
the  Jew  who  had  refused  to  permit  our  Blessed  Lord  to  rest  f(n'  a 
moment  at  his  doorstep,  and  tliey  left  him  full  of  terror.     In  1(>4'2  he 


'  R.  Botoreus,  Comm.  Histor.  Hi,  p.  305. 
2  J.  C.  BuleriKer,  Ilistoria  sui  Temporis,  p.  357. 
3 Praxis  Alchymiif .     Francfurti,  MDCIV.  8vo. 
Olitternacht,  Dis.s.  in  Johann.  xxi.  19. 
sMitternacht,  ut  supra. 


Appendix.  285 

is  reported  to  have  visited  Leipzig.  On  the  22d  of  July,  1721,  he  ap- 
peared at  the  gates  of  the  city  of  Munich.*  About  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century  or  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth,  an  impostor, 
calling  himself  the  Wandering  Jew,  attracted  attention  in  England, 
and  was  listened  to  by  the  ignorant,  and  despised  by  the  educated. 
He,  however,  managed  to  thrust  himself  into  the  notice  of  the  nobil- 
ity, who  half  in  jest,  half  in  curiosity,  questioned  him,  and  paid 
him  as  they  might  a  juggler.  He  declared  that  he  had  been  an 
officer  of  the  Sanhedrim,  and  that  he  had  struck  Christ  as  he  left  the 
judgment  hall  of  Pilate.  He  remembered  all  the  Apostles,  and  de- 
scribed their  personal  appearance,  their  clothes,  and  their  peculiar- 
ities. He  spoke  many  languages,  claimed  the  power  of  healing  the 
sick,  and  asserted  that  he  had  traveled  nearly  all  over  the  world. 
Those  who  heard  him  were  perplexed  by  his  familiarity  with  foreign 
tongues  and  places.  Oxford  and  Cambridge  sent  professors  to  ques- 
tion him,  and  to  discover  the  imposition,  if  any.  An  English  noble- 
man conversed  with  him  in  Arabic.  The  mysterious  stranger  told  his 
questioner  in  that  language  that  historical  works  were  not  to  be 
relied  upon.  And  on  being  asked  his  opinion  of  Mahomet,  he  replied 
that  he  had  been  acquainted  with  the  father  of  the  prophet,  and  that 
he  dwelt  at  Ormuz.  As  for  Mahomet,  he  believed  him  to  have  been 
a  man  of  intelligence ;  once  when  he  heard  the  prophet  deny  that 
Christ  was  crucified,  he  answered  abruptl.v  by  telling  him  he  was  a 
witness  to  the  truth  of  that  event.  He  related  also  that  he  was  In 
Rome  when  Nero  set  it  on  fire ;  he  had  known  Saladin,  Tamerlane, 
Bajazeth,  Eterlane,  and  could  give  minute  details  of  the  history  of 
the  Crusades.t 

Perhaps,  of  all  the  myths  which  originated  in  the  middle  ages, 
none  is  more  striking  than  that  we  have  been  considering;  indeed, 
there  is  something  so  calculated  to  arrest  the  attention  and  to  excite 
the  imagination  in  the  outline  of  the  story,  that  it  is  remarkable 
that  we  should  find  an  interval  of  three  centuries  elapse  between  its 
first  introduction  into  Europe  by  Matthew  Paris  and  Philip  Mouskes, 
and  its  general  acceptance  in  the  sixteenth  centuiy.  As  a  myth,  its 
roots  lie  in  that  great  mystery  of  human  life  which  is  an  enigma 
never  solved,  and  ever  originating  speculation. 

AVhat  was  life?  Was  it  of  necessity  limited  to  fourscore  years, 
or  could  it  be  extended  indefinitely?  were  questions  curious  minds 
never  wearied  of  asking.  And  so  the  mythologj"  of  the  past  teemed 
with  legends  of  favored  or  accursed  mortals,  who  had  reached  beyond 
the  term  of  days  set  to  most  men.  Some  had  discovered  the  water 
of  life,  the  fountain  of  perpetual  youth,  and  were  ever  renewing  their 
strength.  Others  had  dared  the  power  of  God.  and  were,  thei'efore, 
sentenced  to  feel  the  weight  of  His  displeasure,  without  tasting  the 
repose  of  death. 


♦Horraayr,  Taschenbuch,  1834,  p.  216. 
tCalmet,  Dictonn.  de  la  Bible,  t.  ii,  p.  472. 


286  Appendix. 

John  the  Divine  slept  at  Ephesus,  untouched  by  corruiition,  with  the 
grouucl  heaving  over  his  breast  as  he  breathed,  waiting  the  summons 
to  come  forth  and  witness  against  Antichrist.  The  seven  sleepers 
reposed  in  a  cave,  and  centuries  glided  by  like  a  watch  in  the  night. 
The  monk  of  Hildesheim.  doubting  how  with  God  a  thousand  years 
could  be  as  yesterday,  listened  to  the  melody  of  a  bird  in  the  green 
wood  during  three  minutes,  and  found  that  in  three  minutes  three 
hundred  years  had  flown.  Joseph  of  Arimathsea,  in  the  blessed  city 
of  Sarras,  draws  pei-petual  life  from  the  Saint  Graal ;  Merlin  sleeps 
and  sighs  in  an  old  tree,  spellbound  of  Vivien.  Charlemagne  and 
Barbarossa  wait,  crowned  and  ai*med,  in  the  heart  of  the  moimtain, 
till  the  time  comes  for  the  release  of  the  Fatherland  from  despotism. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  the  curse  of  a  deathless  life  was  passed  on 
the  Wild  Hmitsman,  because  he  desired  to  chase  the  red  deer  for 
evermore :  on  the  Captain  of  the  Phantom  Ship,  because  he  vowed 
he  would  double  the  Cape  whether  God  willed  it  or  not ;  on  the  Man 
in  the  Moon,  because  he  gathered  sticks  during  the  Sabbath  rest : 
on  the  dancers  of  Kolbeck.  because  they  desired  to  spend  eternity  in 
their  mad  gambols. 


ADDENDUM. 


For  the  benefit  of  readers  who  never  knew  Mr.  Eliot,  I 
subjoin  an  account  of  his  "Last  Days  on  Earth,"  written  by  a 
man  who,  with  too  hasty  and  prejudicant  ears,  notes  a  wail 
de  profunclis  rather  than  a  te  Deum  laudamus. 

The  old  man's  rebuke  to  this  flaminical  bramble  should  have 
sent  him  to  Mat.  xxiii :  15,  and  vii :  1,  2.  Mr.  Eliot's  Hetero- 
doxy is  the  Orthodoxy  of  to-day. 

JOHN  GHOST  ELIOT'S  LAST  DAYS  ON  EARTH. 

Pitt  County,  March  IS,  1882. 

Editor  Messenger: — Since  the  publication  of  Rev.  Mr.  Marable's 
article  in  your  paper,  in  which  the  facts  of  Mr.  Eliot's  life  and 
character  were  very  faithfully  set  forth,  particularly  his  views  of 
Christianity,  I  have  been  solicited  to  publish  the  facts  of  his  last 
illness. 

It  is  but  natural  for  an  inquisitive  public  to  desire  the  last  news 
of  the  views  of  so  notable  a  man.  And  believing  there  is  a  great 
truth  expressed  in  the  lines — 

"The  pebble  in  the  streamlet  scant 

Has  changed  the  course  of  many  a  river ; 
The  dewdrop  on  the  tiny  plant 

Has  warped  the  giant  oak  forever." 

I  have  gathered  all  the  data  he  has  left  us,  and  give  Dr.  W.  L. 
Best  and  myself,  who  were  eye-witnesses,  as  authority  for  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  following  statement : 

Mr.  Eliot  died  November  13,  1881 ;  twenty-one  days  previous  he 
came  to  Dr.  Best  for  medical  treatment.  He  had  had  phymosis  sev- 
enty-one years.  An  operation  was  performed ;  it  healed  kindly  and 
he  was  entirely  well  of  that  at  death.  He  also  had  had  hemorrhoids 
about  fifty  j^ears,  and  double  hernia  about  forty  years,  but  the  cause 
of  his  death  was  senile-diarrhea,  for  which  there  is  no  cure. 

During  his  illness  I  visited  him  several  times,  and  always  found 
him  quiet  and  patient  in  suffering.  At  one  of  my  first  visits  he 
incidentally  spoke  of  dying.  I  immediately  directed  his  mind  to 
Christ  as  our  merciful  Savior  and  only  hope.  His  reply  was  con- 
cerning the  impossibility  of  the  scriptural  statement  of  the  conception 
of  Jesus  being  true.  I  then  asked  if  he  did  not  believe  what  the 
Scriptures  said  concerning  the  conception,  birth,  life,  death,  burial, 
resurrection,  ascension  and  mediation  of  Jesus  Christ  was  true. 

19 


288  Addendum. 

He  replied :  "I  believe  everything  in  that  book,  but  dofi't  under- 
stand it."  The  subject  was  then  pressed  further,  when  he  said  with 
some  feeling :  "Harper,  never  try  to  press  your  views  on  anybody, 
for  if  j'ou  convince  a  man  against  his  will,  he'll  be  of  the  same 
opinion  still." 

About  four  months  prior  to  this,  in  a  conversation  with  Dr.  Best, 
he  said :  "About  the  best  prayer  I  ever  heard  was  an  old  school- 
teacher's prayer,  who,  when  he  apprehended  that  death  was  near  at 
hand,  exclaimed,  'O  God,  if  there  is  a  God,  have  mercy  on  my  soul,  if 
I  have  a  soul.'  "     He  did  not  say  who  the  school-teacher  was. 

Ten  days  previous  to  his  death,  in  conversation  with  Dr.  Best,  he 
compared  himself  to  a  growing  stalk  of  cotton,  by  saying :  "The 
stalk  is  composed  of  fourteen  different  elements,  ten  of  which  are 
derived  from  the  earth,  and  four  from  the  air.  When  it  dies,  the 
parts  from  the  earth  return  from  whence  they  came,  and  the  four  are 
given  back  to  the  air,  just  as  you  and  I  will  do."  Conveying  the  idea 
clearly  that  he  had  no  more  immortality  than  the  cotton  stalk. 

His  tenacity  to  life,  and  the  courage  with  which  he  fought  the  dis- 
ease that  w^as  taking  him  away,  were  wonderful.  He  seemed  hard  to 
convince  that  he  must  soon  die,  for  only  a  few  days  before  death  I 
encouraged  him  to  make  a  wise  distribution  of  his  property,  and  he 
said  "he  had  stood  a  certain  man's  security,  and  with  the  proceeds 
from  the  farm  this  year  (1881),  I  want  to  pay  that  security  debt, 
cover  my  house  and  get  me  a  set  of  teeth." 

Two  days  previous  to  his  death  Dr.  Best  entered  his  room,  and 
hearing  him  speaking  in  an  undertone,  asked  him  what  he  was  saying, 
and  he  replied,  "Repeating  a  prayer."  The  doctor  being  very  much 
surprised  at  that,  requested  him  to  tell  what  he  said  when  he  prayed, 
but  he  excused  himself  by  saying :  "I  am  out  of  breath,  but  will  tell 
you  all  about  it  when  I  can  breathe  more  easily."  But  he  died 
without  telling. 

Alas !  how  prone  we  are  to  "put  off  till  to-morrow  what  ought  to 
be  done  to-day,"  and  prayer  and  obedience  to  Christ  is  often  post- 
poned until  too  late !  too  late  ! ! 

Six  hours  before  death,  the  doctor  heard  him  making  a  noise,  and, 
entering  his  room,  asked  what  was  the  matter.  He  replied :  "I  am 
lost."  The  doctor  asked:  "In  what  way  are  you  lost,  Mr.  Eliot?" 
He  did  not  reply.  The  doctor  asked  if  he  knew  where  he  was,  and 
he  replied,  "Yes,  here  in  my  room."  "Whose  house  are  you  at?" 
"Yours,  Dr.  Best."  The  doctor  asked  if  he  meant  his  soul  was  lost, 
and  he  made  an  indefinite  answer,  and  turned  the  conversation  to  his 
body,  asking  the  doctor  to  dissect  his  body,  articulate  his  skeleton, 
and  donate  it  to  some  good  literary  school.  The  doctor  told  him  this 
was  impossible,  from  the  press  of  business.  He  then  requested  the 
doctor  to  have  a  coffin  built  of  fat  lightwood  and  bury  him.     The 


Addendum.  289 

doctor  asked  tlie  privilege  of  having  a  nice  coffin  for  Iiini.  and  lie 
replied :     "I  practiced  no  pride  in  life  and  don't  wish  it  in  death." 

All  this  conversation  took  place  in  the  last  five  or  six  hours  of  his 
life,  and  he  remained  conscious  unto  the  end.     His  last  words  were : 

"Attend  to  my  necessities." 

Reader,  draw  your  own  conclusions. 

"It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God." — 

Heb.  X  :31. 

H.  D.  Harpeb. 


